


Charmed, I'm Sure

by fencer_x



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Knotting, M/M, Sirens, Veela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 15:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: [Future Fish/Harry Potter AU] - Half-Veela Matsuoka Rin works alongside his partner Yamazaki Sousuke in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Japanese Ministry of Magic. It isn't exactly the most glamorous of careers: remove a kappa infestation here, ward a tengu-frequented mountain pass against Muggles there—until Rin is asked to help interrogate a Siren charged with murdering a prominent Councillor and vocal opponent of Mer rights.





	1. Chapter 1

" _Oof_!" Rin hissed in pain, doubling over reflexively and sending three kilos of cat-beast toppling off of his torso and onto the floor. His assailant yowled at him plaintively, twin tails flicking wildly and clearly offended at having been jostled from his perch, and Rin rubbed his stomach with a sour frown, grousing, "Don't gimme that look— _you're_ the one who pounced on _me_. Hell of a wake-up call..." 

The bright sunlight streaming in through his faded curtains told him morning was well underway, though, and perhaps being woken so abruptly had been for the best—for tracking a lazy path in the air over his bed (and on further consideration, probably what Tama had been aiming for when he'd pounced on Rin) was a tiny little whale shark, its dappled hide glittering ghostly pale under the harsh morning rays as it circled Rin's head. Sousuke's work, no doubt, and Rin groaned to himself and flopped over onto his side, reaching for the blanket to draw it back over his head. Whatever Sousuke felt urgent enough to send a Patronus to Rin this early in the day _couldn't_ be good—and it was his day off, besides. 

Tama's tails _swish_ ed softly against the hardwood floor as he hunted the little Patronus still swimming serenely through the air, and Rin reached over the side of the bed to scritch him behind his ears. The _nekomata_ had been a gift from his sister three birthdays back— _"The breeder said he's temperamental and fickle, so I knew he was the one for you!"_ —under pretense that it was entirely unseemly for a man Rin's age to be living alone. Rin had told her she could go suck on lemongrass and then promptly fallen in love with the fell beast. The idea had been sound at least—for obvious reasons, Rin couldn't have roommates, and even if he _could_ find someone desperate enough for his companionship to agree to suck down an Impersuasion infusion every day, Rin wasn't entirely sure he _wanted_ to live with someone like that. 

Tama didn't judge, though, and when the _nekomata_ brought him little 'gifts' of headless mice or songbirds snatched on prowls amongst the rooftop gardens, Rin could rest assured that this was just typical albeit gruesome cat-like behavior and not an attempt to get Rin into bed. Veela Charm was strong—but not strong enough, it seemed, to influence _bakeneko_. 

The little shark had dipped lower now, circling temptingly over Tama's head, but the few half-hearted attempts to reach up and snatch it only left Tama pawing at thin air, his sharp claws raking clean through the ghostly image. Rin chuckled sympathetically at Tama's irritated mewl before removing the temptation entirely by reaching for his wand on the nightstand to accept the message.

With a swipe of the tip across the Patronus' nose, the shark's gaping maw opened—and Sousuke's unmistakable throaty bass came roaring out: " _Oi, Matsuoka! Get your ass out of bed—your 'invaluable services' are in demand, and I'm missing lunch with a very attractive witch from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office for this, so I'd at least better get lunch with a moderately attractive if-you-go-for-that-sort-of-thing wizard from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures instead. Coordinates are 75.5 degrees north leylatitude, 166.6 east leylongitude._ "

Its message delivered, the Patronus evaporated into a puff of smoke, and Tama eyed the fading wisps longly, batting reflexively in a futile attempt to beckon it back again. Rin sighed loudly—his _invaluable services_. Meaning his Charm. That didn't bode well. Whatever they needed him for that one of his fully human cowizards couldn't manage was probably _not_ something Sousuke would be happy giving up lunch with a witch from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office for. 

Tama's green eyes flashed at him from over the edge of the mattress, chirping for attention and swiping a paw forward to claw at stray strands of Rin's hair spilling over the pillow. Rin reached over to poke morosely at the paw when it found purchase, muttering largely to himself, "Why didn't I go for that position vending Beautification potions like mom suggested...?"

* * *

Rin despised crime scenes—not that he ever had much occasion to visit them. Sure, now and then he might have to help patch up and Obliviate a stray muggle hiker who got himself sliced up after wandering into a nest of _kamaitachi_ , but he was no Auror. He would likely never find himself firing off defensive spells against Dark Wizards or trying to dismember an enemy before winding up in pieces himself—and he was content with that. It was only—crime scenes meant _crowds_. Like he was threading his way through now. 

The site he arrived at was buzzing with activity—a narrow stretch of field barely wide enough to be charitably called as such edged a nicely sized pond, its water dark and rippling with fish darting just below the surface, with a rather dilapidated little shack settled on a far bank. The trees around them grew thick and tall, and Rin could detect the subtle buzz of magical energy prickling over his skin as he crossed the boundary of what he strongly suspected was a Muggle-Repelling Charm. Whatever had happened in this little clearing, the Ministry evidently didn't want any adventurous Muggles wandering by and poking their noses in. 

Everyone was bustling about on some job or another, and Rin swept a glance around the clearing, eyeing his fellow ministry workers with suspicion. Some were roping off a section of shoreline, others were snapping pictures for evidence, lighting up the shadows cast by the arching pines with flashbulbs, and a few were even guarding a prone figure on the ground, draped in a shroud that Rin suspected was the reason he'd lost his day off. 

But he could feel the moment they sensed his presence as he wandered past, when their attention faded from whatever task they had at hand and their heads cocked just _so_ , like they'd caught something out of the corner of their eye and couldn't quite believe it. If Rin met their gazes, they'd glance away, lickety split, but then they'd be back on him again the moment he looked away. It wasn't their fault, he knew; he couldn't expect everyone to take a dose of Impersuasion just because he was going to be on-site; but it still grated and left him feeling... _hunted_ almost. He wondered how full-bloods ever managed it, and then reasoned that they probably kept to themselves in their own colonies and thus never had to worry about outsiders undressing them with their eyes at every turn of the back. 

A tall figure fell into step beside him. "Did I wake you?"

Rin cut him a sour sidelong glance. "You know you did—I haven't had a proper day off in weeks; couldn't you have gotten them to put this off until _tomorrow_?"

Sousuke just shrugged, disaffected, but his cocky grin suggested he didn't entirely regret ruining Rin's morning. "Department Head's orders. If you'd like to make your case to him, then by all means, go ahead. Me? I'm paying off a Yajirushi 3000—and would _still_ like to take out that witch from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at some point, so I'll keep my job, thanks." He nodded to the group of dour-robed Ministry representatives huddled near the door of the shack and conversing in hushed tones. "And there he is now; just turn that Charm up to 10, and maybe you'll have a shot."

"Veela Charm doesn't work on Trolls, you know that." Sousuke snorted inelegantly at the jibe, and Rin grinned; no, he could never _ask_ anyone to down the notoriously bitter Impersuasion infusion just to be around him, but that was the great thing about a best friend: you never _had_ to ask them. They tended to do stuff like that on their own, because for some reason they liked your company, uninfluenced in any way. "So are you going to fill me in on what's going on, or should I just wait and be surprised?"

"Probably best to let the Director explain himself; they're not letting anyone without clearance near that shack—but you've been asked for by name."

"Lucky me," Rin muttered under his breath, and Sousuke clapped his shoulder in sympathy.

"I'll be around, ready to re-attach any limbs that might get severed."

"My hero." Just crossing the grounds, a few brave souls had gone out of their way to greet him, with one even casually making her way over with a look of confidence that must surely have been _Felix felicis_ -induced. But she, like all the others, had been quickly routed with a dark look from Sousuke. "Vultures," he'd spat, and Rin had rolled his eyes but silently thanked him. No knobby-kneed greenhorn from the Muggle Liaison Office was going to threaten his virtue with his partner around, evidently.

"Well—run along, then. There's a Quidditch match on the WWN tonight that I'm bound and determined to enjoy in real-time rather than read about second-hand in the morning's paper."

"Oh of course; I wouldn't want to ruin _your_ evening."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea to drag you out here on your day off."

"Maybe not, but I'll bet you enjoyed it."

"That I did," Sousuke confessed, giving him a mock salute. "Good hunting."

"Yeah yeah," Rin returned, marching into the group of Department heads conversing in the shack's tiny, muddy front yard. "Sirs, good morning to you all." Director Sasabe ducked a nod his way, and the other men in the group all gave that characteristic cautious turn that everyone adopted once they fell within range of his Charm. Best to get this over with quickly before one of them complimented the lustrous sheen of his locks or something. "I received a summons from Yamazaki earlier, came as quickly as I could."

"And we appreciate it. If you'll follow me?" The crowd parted, and Rin strode forward on the Director's heel, mounting the shallow stone steps and crossing the threshold of the ramshackle cottage. It was dim inside, and Rin blinked to adjust to the contrast. The interior was lit largely by a single oil lamp burning on a dining table further on, but on glancing around, the cottage looked far more well-kept on the inside than Rin would have expected, given the sorry state of the exterior. The sink to his left was empty, no dirty dishes around, and the wooden floor beneath his boots had been recently swept and was free of debris. The air was fresh, not dank or musty despite the proximity to the pond, and Rin realized now that this place wasn't merely 'kept up'; someone _lived_ here. Maybe the shrouded body out front?

The Director drew to a stop just inside the kitchen, stepping to the side and extending an arm to introduce the reason Rin had been summoned. Just a bit further into the shotgun layout in what must have passed for the den sat a huddled figure, draped in a blanket for modesty. His—its?—head hung low, dark hair plastered to his scalp and shoulders hunched to hold the blanket in place. Rin frowned—they couldn't have at least let him dress?—and turned to Sasabe for an explanation.

"Just after dawn this morning, the Mie-ken Probate received word that a body had been found floating in a pond—this pond." His voice was low and soft, as if he worried they might be overheard. "Given that the pond in question was home to a Siren—our friend here—we got tagged to, ah, _handle_ the situation."

A Siren. Well _shit_. He closed his eyes, wincing. "And by 'we', you mean me."

"Don't give me that tone; he needs to be interrogated, and none of my other agents can handle a Thrall, should things go pear-shaped. We don't need the embarrassment of having our faces plastered across the front page under the headline _Ministry Department Happily Frees Murderous Siren to Kill Again, Wishes Him Best of Luck_." He ran a hand through his hair, mussing what had been a carefully pomaded coif. "Just—go give him a talking to; from what I've seen, he lives out here all on his own, so he's probably not exactly _balanced_ to begin with. A confession would be great, but barring that, at least see if he's got _any_ explanation as to why I've got a dead Councillor on my—"

"Wait, a what? You can't mean..."

Sasabe pursed his lips into a thin line. "...Yeah. Councillor Kasahara. And not just dead—drowned."

" _Fuck_."

"You put it more eloquently than I did, when I got word."

"But—Kasahara dead is bad enough. Kasahara dead by a _Siren's_ hand is..."

"Now you see why I'm going gray? Get in there and get me something I can use so this day doesn't turn out to be a _complete_ wash." He held out a folio of papers to Rin, thick brows raised hopefully.

Five minutes ago, Rin might have bit out a bitter retort, still stinging from his lost freedom, but he was too busy reeling from the revelation of just whose crime scene he was traipsing through.

Kasahara Yukio, respected councilmember of the Japanese Magical Diet and a prominent outspoken opponent of Beast Rights. Rumor had it he was aiming for the Minister of Magic post, and his platform of Human Pride was gaining substantial traction among the magical community. It was gauche to bluster about _pure blood_ and rail against muggleborns these days, but who among the voting public would be so foolish as to side with Beings and Beasts over fellow humans? Kasahara's rallies routinely drew hundreds, all eager to hear him espouse his view of a Wizarding community free of the taint of Beast and Being blood. No more werewolves, no more vampires—but equally, no more Veela, no more Centaurs, no more Goblins, and certainly no more Sirens or Selkies or Merfolk. Human blood, he'd claimed, should be kept _pure_ , and suddenly they'd come full-circle: it was _pure bloods_ all over again.

So no, Rin was not all that choked up, knowing that a man like that was no longer around to deliver those same shit-stirring speeches. 

But the political fallout of such a scandal would be devastating. Kasahara's supporters would ride the wave of anti-Beast/Being sentiment to more seats in the Diet and possibly the Minister of Magic post, and Mer aggregations and Centaur herds and all manner of non-humans or their human-hybrid offspring like Rin would be forced to choose sides. That, of course, was assuming that they weren't shunned from the community altogether, like Kasahara had been aiming for.

Hell, if Kasahara hadn't been dead, Rin might have thought he'd planned the whole thing himself. As it was, Rin didn't think the guy was _nearly_ that self-sacrificing. With a silent nod of consent, he turned back toward the den area, keeping his eyes fixed on the figure seated there and listening for the sound of Sasabe's boots scraping across the hardwood floor as he exited the shack. They'd need privacy; anyone else staying in the room with them defeated the entire purpose of Rin being called in, after all. 

It was quiet in the cottage—far quieter than one might expect, knowing the amount of work going on just outside the thin walls, and Rin wondered if they hadn't slapped a Imperturbable charm on the whole place. It made sense, given that their suspect was a Siren, but it also meant that if Rin needed to call for help, for whatever reason, then no one would be able to hear him. 

He was quite capable of protecting himself, though, Rin reasoned, and after adjusting his tie and dusting off his robes to be sure he looked presentable, he strode confidently into the den area, tossed the folio onto the table between them where it _whapped_ loudly against the surface, and then settled into the chair opposite the Siren. To his credit, the Siren didn't flinch; indeed, he didn't move a muscle, and Rin wondered if they'd hit him with a Freezing charm in a fit of paranoia. 

Time to get to work. "Sorry to have kept you waiting; I'm sure you can appreciate that certain...precautions...must be taken when dealing with your sort." He flipped open the file to the topsheet—a profile—and cleared his throat. "Let's see, now: Nanase Haruka, Beast ID No. MER4502033; eyes, blue; hair, black; age, unknown, with an appearance in your mid 20s." He nodded approvingly. "Currently residing in an unplottable pond within the city limits of Nabari-shi, which is apparently the middle of fuck-all nowhere, from the looks of things. Aggregation affiliation—none claimed; family ties—unknown. Current occupation—" This gave Rin pause, and he frowned. "A chef?" It seemed...so _muggle_. The nearest magical community was two and a half train stops away, and the state of the cottage suggested that the Siren didn't get out much. He sighed to himself, snapping the file shut again and shoving it to the side. "Current state: screwed." He nodded to the file. "That's all you, right?" No response. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Now, Haru—you mind if I call you 'Haru"? I'm gonna call you Haru." 

For the first time, he detected a hint of reaction—the thin shoulders clenched, ever so slightly, and Rin smiled to himself, resolving to keep pressing now that he'd found where it hurt. "Haru, you're in a rather sticky situation. See, unfortunately, someone's been found dead on your property—and I'm not saying you did it, but you have to understand that it really doesn't look too good. A respected member of the Japanese Magical Diet, hundreds of kilometers from his home, found dead—drowned, which I understand is how you Siren go about doing that sort of thing—by a member of a group of creatures who are known to have _no_ love for the victim. Put yourself in my shoes, what am I supposed to think?"

The Siren just sat there huddled under his tattered blanket, stony and silent with his head hung low and looking every bit the guilty party. Rin squared his jaw, feeling his patience wearing thin. "Nothing? Then, what? You're happy with having this all pinned on you? You'll take the blame? You did this? _Haru_."

The head whipped up, and blue eyes flashed in irritation as he shook his head firmly once—but still no verbal response came, and Rin abruptly realized that it wasn't so much that the Siren didn't _want_ to talk, as he felt he _couldn't_. He nodded to show his understanding. "Better—but a nice, confident, 'I didn't do it' would probably be a lot more convincing." A look of stricken frustration passed over the Siren's features, and Rin crossed his arms, raising a brow. "...You realize you're allowed to speak, right? That's why I'm here. Creatures that exert Influence can't themselves be affected by it, so—" He motioned. "Go on." The Siren's brows drew together, as if sensing a trap, and he opened his mouth once—before snapping it shut again. Rin rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be my day off, you know. I had a nice full day of doing absolutely nothing, all planned out. So sitting in your living room, with you wearing nothing but a towel, is probably the last place I want to be right now. You can either speak and tell me what happened, or I can leave and the Department heads can take your silence for confession and Vanish you away to some deep, dark hole." He leaned forward, locking eyes with the Siren intently. "You won't be punished; you're at liberty to speak around me, always. You can't Enthrall me—it's physically impossible."

He settled back, feeling a coiling tension in his shoulders from the stress, and another long beat of silence passed as the Siren evaluated the situation. On the bright side, at least Rin could be confident his Charm wouldn't work this time; _that_ was a pleasant change. Haru would only say something if he _wanted_ to say it, and not because he wanted to please Rin. It tended to get difficult recognizing genuine affection or mere altruism when ten seconds in your presence had everyone falling over themselves to make you happy. To come across someone downright stubborn was a relief, in some ways.

The Siren sat up a bit straighter in place, and the blanket began to drop from his shoulders, revealing a form that seemed human at first glance—though the smooth, opalescent scales dotting the joints and sickly pallor from being cooped up in the dark room all morning quickly dispelled any such disillusions. He might have been attractive—still could be, probably, with some shining up—with his long limbs and ink-black hair, but his sharp blue eyes were wary and hunted. Rin wondered when the last time he'd seen a snipping spell had been, or a decent scrub brush—but his thoughts were shortly interrupted when the Siren finally _spoke_ : "You're...Siren?"

His voice was soft and raspy from disuse, and in those two words alone, Rin could sense that years of enforced silence had left his tongue heavy and thick in his mouth. "No," he corrected calmly, not wanting to startle. "Not Siren—Veela. Or, close enough."

Haru's brows hitched together as he mouthed the word to himself. "What's...Veela?"

"They're—" Rin started, then realized they were getting off topic, so he waved off the question. "That's not important. I'll be asking the questions." He squared his shoulders and checked Haru for any signs he was about to lash out; Sirens were used to getting their way through their Thrall and tended not to take rejection all that kindly. "Ready to start the interrogation, then?"

Haru's face fell a hair, like he'd been genuinely disappointed not to continue the benign thread of conversation, and he swallowed. "...I didn't do it. Kill him. I didn't. I found him."

"I know you found him." He tapped the folio pointedly. "I've got the Probate's filing right here. What I'd like to know is what happened _before_ you found him. How he came to be here in the first place. Who killed him, since you claim you didn't."

"I _didn't_ ," Haru insisted hotly, fists clenching and raking claws digging into the flesh of his palms as he did so. "I don't—even know who he is."

" _He_ is Kasahara Yukio, a member of the Magical Diet. And he's a long ways from home." He cocked his head to the side, studying Haru's posture—stiff, but not nervous, really. Not confident either, just...coiled. "How'd you find him?"

Haru's head turned to the side, staring at the eastern wall of the cabin, and he nodded in the direction of the pond. "There. I was sleeping in the kelp bed in the shallows—it was late, I think? And...heard a noise."

"What kind of noise?"

"Maybe...speech? Arguing?"

"So you heard people arguing—who? The Councillor and others? Just one, or more than one?" Haru just shrugged, and Rin reined in his frustration. "Well, then what?"

The Siren got a far-away look in his eyes, as if he were struggling to draw upon memory. "Then...then, there was..." He frowned to himself, confusion blooming on his features. "...I'm sorry, I don't remember."

Rin wanted to _laugh_ , fighting back a scoff. "You don't _remember_? This couldn't have been twelve hours ago!"

Haru shook his head in irritation, eyes flashing again with anger—and Rin wondered if that wasn't part of his Thrall trying to assert itself, to _force_ understanding into Rin when he wouldn't consciously accept it. "No, no—I tried to remember, I should remember, but...I can't reach it. It's...not there. Like a dream, I can't quite recall..."

_Like a dream_

Rin's features slipped into a frown mirroring Haru's now—his speech was still somewhat stilted and difficult to parse, but this didn't sound like a simple case of slipping the mind. This reeked of memory tampering—which made next to no sense, as creatures of Influence like Sirens and Veela and Faeries, Beasts and Beings that lived to exert their will over others, were all but immune to such efforts to modify memories. Something wasn't sitting quite right—a Councillor where he shouldn't be, an oblivious Siren, and now memory modification?

_BAM BAM BAM_ _"Matsuoka! You dead in there? You need us to come rescue you?"_

__Rin jumped in his skin, hissing a soft curse; this was no way to conduct an interrogation. He needed time to review the case better, to get Haru's speech centers back up and running properly. Maybe he could force some wit-sharpening potion down his throat. He sighed loudly and reached for the folio, dragging it back across the table. "We'll have to take this back to the Ministry headquarters in Tokyo—you'll be transferred there, and we'll continue our chat later this afternoon."

He shifted his chair back and moved to stand, and Haru followed him with his voice, tone protesting. "But—I didn't do it. Why will I go to the Ministry? Why Tokyo?"

"Because you're still a suspect, deny your involvement though you might. Just because you say 'I didn't do it' doesn't mean anyone's going to believe you—and less so when you're a creature with Influence. Believe me," he huffed softly, "I would know." He straightened his robes, facing Haru straight on. "They'll call in the Apparation team shortly to escort you to the Ministry. Once I leave, the speech embargo will be in effect again—so I'd keep any further protests to myself if I were you. I'll be happy to field all complaints when we continue this conversation later." With a nod, he turned on his heel and started for the door, eager to get back out into the fresh air—but paused after a few steps, glancing over his shoulder with a frown. "And...put on some robes, will you?"

* * *

Much of the crowd had dispersed by the time Rin exited the shack, including the small entourage that had been shadowing the Director, and he breathed a sigh of relief to know that he wouldn't have to deal with more awkward staring and feckless efforts to garner his attention, instead able to dive straight into the issue at hand: "I need more time."

Sasabe cursed. "No luck with a confession, then?"

Rin shook his head. "He claims he didn't do it—was quite adamant about it, actually. He doesn't know much about what happened, other than that he wasn't the one to murder the Councillor."

"That's what they all say," Sousuke reasoned. "Everyone claims he didn't do it—that's what you _do_. Doesn't mean he _didn't_." He crossed his arms over his chest, wand still clutched tight in his fist where it hadn't left his grip since Rin stepped on site. "Look, it seems pretty cut and dry to me—and in all honesty, can you blame him? If Kasahara'd been coming for me and my own, I'd have called it self-defense and done something about it myself."

"The world's far better off without bigots like him around," Rin agreed—though he doubted this would be the blow to the Human Pride movement that Sousuke seemed to hope it would. Kasahara and his supporters had made quite a bit of headway in recent years, thanks to a few _tanuki_ attacks on campers and having to close off a popular mountain resort in Nagano due to _kamaitachi_ attacks. "But murder is murder—and it wouldn't be fair not to investigate this fully." He then grimaced and added, "Besides, can you imagine the amount of shit the Department would get if someone like _me_ was involved in this case, and we just washed our hands of it?"

"Seems like you're damned either way—dig your heels in without pressing for a conviction, and people will start claiming you're trying to go easy on a fellow non-human."

Sasabe grunted his agreement, gaze focused on the ground as he gathered his thoughts. Rin and Sousuke turned to him, waiting for further orders, and after another moment's contemplation, he nodded. "You both make good points, and you know what that does to me. But...back to Tokyo, for now. With the Siren. I'll send word ahead to have them prep an interrogation room for us and ward it appropriately." He pointed a finger at Rin. "You, get me something I can work with. 'I don't know' won't cut it. You're the only weapon we've got in this particular war, so I'll expect results."

Rin ducked a nod and gave a curt little salute, and Sasabe clapped him on the shoulder before turning to shout orders to the few stragglers remaining, calling down an Apparation team to help escort their guest to the Ministry.

"...Hope you know what you're doing, Matsuoka."

"You'll be home in time for that Quidditch match, don't get your robes in a bunch."

Sousuke rounded on him, stepping close. "I'm serious. He's a suspect, like any other. We can't cut him any slack just because he did your people a favor." He flicked a cautious glance at the shack. "He's a Siren. He's dangerous."

Rin snorted, flashing a confident grin and side-stepping Sousuke to see to Haru's detainment details. "So am I."


	2. Chapter 2

At least the Siren was no longer naked.

Rin told himself that this was a step up—though the state of the clothing he'd donned was still something of concern. Nothing but Muggle-wear: constricting tops and threadbare pants that look like they hadn’t seen mending in an age, unlaced shoes with the soles coming loose and no socks to speak of. He hadn’t expected Haru to dress in his finest robes, but he _had_ expected him to at least _own_ robes. When he glanced dubiously over at the Director, all he received was a head shake in return that clearly said _don’t ask me_.

Sousuke’s belated arrival completed their party as they stood behind a pane of spelled glass, looking in on their suspect where he sat behind a small table in one of the Ministry’s interrogation rooms. Sousuke had stayed behind to see to the site’s clean-up, being sure to reinforce the Muggle-repelling charms and see that the body was moved to an examination room with preservation spells put in place. Rin had returned ahead of the both of them to stop by his office and grab the preliminary paperwork that the Department associates had been ordered to gather by the time they all arrived back. It was now well into the afternoon, and having now missed two meals apart from a bland _onigiri_ from the Ministry's giftshop, Rin was feeling the effects of what was sure to become a long, _long_ day.

“The Councillor’s body’s in 25-12; you asked to be notified when it’d arrived?”

Sasabe nodded at Sousuke's notice, turning his back to the interrogation room and beckoning Rin and Sousuke to follow him. Rin glanced, confused, back at Haru through the window—before following dutifully, wondering silently where they were headed. They marched as a trio out the door, straight for the lift and dodging the curious glances that inevitably turned their way when Rin passed by. Sousuke stepped around him, placing Rin’s right side against the wall by way of cover, and Rin smiled a weak thanks. Some things you never got used to, and Sousuke didn’t seem to mind being Rin’s erstwhile bodyguard in situations like that. No one was going to _pounce_ him—his Charm wasn’t quite that potent—but it could make for awkward situations, all the same, and even a human shield in the form of his best friend was better than nothing.

They boarded the first empty lift that arrived, shuffling to the side as a pair of glossy black ravens swooped in behind them and perched on specially crafted stands anchored to the floor. Rin eyed the tiny strips of parchment wound about their skinny little stick legs, and one of the ravens glared at Rin before croaking hoarsely, chiding him for staring.

“New admirer,” Sousuke mused, and Rin snorted; he had enough ‘admirers’ to deal with already without having to worry about the local avian populace, and while he was content to consign his intra-office and inter-department memoranda to the ravens that acted to carry the messages from building to building, he didn’t much care for the droppings they left in inconvenient locations or their raucous caws when riled up.

The lift drew to a creaking halt, and the ravens departed in a flurry of black feathers, leaving the three to continue on upwards alone before stopping on the level housing the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes—and its (morbidly enough) associated morgue. Too often, housewitches tried home remedies to resolve symptoms of poisoning after a potion ingredient had gone bad, or a Muggle _yakuza_ member paid for a hit to be carried out by more-than-Muggle means, and victims had to be examined on-site at the Ministry. Here, with privacy that might otherwise be difficult to obtain out in the massing throngs of the city, investigators could conduct more thorough examinations in peace.

As they approached 25-12, Sasabe drew out his wand and waved its tip over the keyhole as he muttered a word to release the lock, and the three stepped over the threshold into the chilly examination room. Councillor Kasahara’s body was already laid out, covered up to the neck in a thick white sheet, but his pallor was a sickly pale, and his lips had gone blue. Rin didn't try to disguise the slight curl of his lip in disgust—the last time he'd seen this man alive, it'd been at an impromptu rally being held particularly close to a cafe frequented by Ministry officials on their lunch breaks. The Councillor hadn't had a permit for the gathering and had been justifiable rustled off, but not before he'd started in on the dangers of _mixed-race get of wayward witches and wizards_. 

Rin held back at the threshold, Sousuke shadowing him, as the Director stepped around the slab supporting the body and motioned them closer. “I know it’s not a pretty sight, and one none of us are really accustomed to—but you’re going to want to see this.” Rin didn't think he wanted to be particularly close to the Councillor, dead _or_ alive, but he obliged his superior and stepped forward. Sasabe slipped his wand into a holster, then dipped his fingers daintily into a waiting vat of spirit of myrrh before carefully easing the corpse’s head back, bracing its jaw to open its mouth. “Come on, now—I’m only going to do this once.”

Rin took a tentative step closer, reflexively covering his nose against a nonexistent stench. Preservation spells would keep rot from setting in for some time yet, but Rin still felt comforted by the precaution. “Sir?”

“Give us some more light, would you, Yamazaki?”

Sousuke held his wand over their heads, muttering a soft _lumos_ to set the tip blazing like a tiny sun, and Sasabe tipped the head just to the side so that Rin could see more easily. “Now—we haven’t had time for a full report to be drawn up just yet, and we’ll let the professionals get to that soon enough, but the field mortisticians noticed something rather odd in their preliminary on-site review of the body and briefed me as soon as I arrived back. Matsuoka?”

Rin drew closer, brows cinching as he peered down into the corpse’s open mouth—but the shadows cast by his head blacked out most detail, so with a swallow, he gently poked his own wand just into the cavity, squinting around the light that blossomed with his muttered _lumos_. “…Anything I should be looking for, Sir?”

“Back of the throat, just below the uvula.”

He peered through the teeth and over the tongue as per the Director’s suggestion—until he found what he was supposed to be looking for. “Abrasions, gouges almost.”

A nod. “Like someone tried to shove something down his throat and wasn’t entirely successful.”

“Do we know what?”

Sasabe shook his head. “But we’ve got a good idea; the cause of death was determined to be drowning. That much was pretty easy to deduce. However…” He slapped the corpse’s chest. “His lungs had nearly exploded, so full of water were they.”

“Isn’t that how people drown, though? Water in the lungs?” Sousuke doused his wand, arm dropping back to his side as he massaged his shoulder with a wince.

“Sure, but—” Rin corrected with a frown at the corpse, “Never so much. It actually doesn't take that much water in the lungs at all to kill a person; no one would ever _inhale_ so much it was practically leaking out of their mouth—they'd die before it got to that point.” He pointed to faint tracks leading from the corpse’s mouth, where water had dribbled out while the body was in transit. “Which now makes me doubt this was any typical drowning.”

Sousuke huffed a dry chuckle. “So what, you’re going all CSA on me now?”

Rin glanced up, not following. “CSA?”

Sousuke raised his brows. “You know, _Crime Scene Aurors_ —that new serial they’ve got running on the WWN?” When Rin showed no sign of knowing what Sousuke was going on about—he preferred reading a nice romance (which he’d deny, if asked) to tuning in to the WWN on the rare evenings he had off—Sousuke just rolled his eyes and muttered, “Uncultured swine. Whatever. Anyway—I would’ve thought the Siren down in Holding would be testament enough that this is anything _but_ a typical drowning?”

Sasabe snorted, dousing his hands with spirit of myrrh once more before wiping them on his robes. “Sirens may lure men to their deaths, sure—but those deaths are natural drownings, all the same. No, the only way that much water made its way into the dear Councillor here…is if someone put it there.”

“Like shoving a wand down their throat and firing off an Aguamenti charm?”

“I’d wager _exactly_ like that.”

Rin massaged his temples with a groan; this was starting to get complicated. “And last I checked, Sirens—just like any other Beast or Being—aren’t allowed to wield wands.”

“Doesn’t meant he _can’t_ ,” Sousuke reminded with a raised brow, tapping his forehead.

“No, but you’d wonder why. Why would he use a charm when he could just Enthrall his victim into drowning himself?”

“To throw us off his trail? Send us on a wild Fwooper chase?”

“Seems like a lot of work—and five minutes talking with Haru makes me suspect that degree of deviousness is beyond him.”

Sousuke rolled his eyes. “So it’s ‘Haru’, now? You’re such a soft touch, Matsuoka.”

Rin cut him a warning look. "Well I doubt we're getting any more answers here—can I go interrogate my suspect now?" This whole case, in ten minutes, had escalated from a straightforward open-and-shut conviction to a framing. It helped nothing that they couldn't petition for a Veritaserum permit, as its usage was not only highly restricted but all but useless on any creature that expressed Influence, which meant the only way they were getting any answers from through a good old-fashioned question-and-answer session. 

Sasabe nodded firmly. "You've had enough time to review his file by now, I hope, so get in there and turn him inside out. And—I'd get whatever you need fast, because with what I've just shown you, it's looking like we're gonna have to throw this one back. If I can't charge him with anything, then we can't keep him here against his will, which means we'll have to find other arrangements for him."

Rin frowned, not liking the sound of that; suspect Haru might not be, but he was still a valuable source of information who might help their case immensely. "...I'll do my best."

* * *

The Siren hadn't budged from where he sat, stony and silent as the fountainhead figure in the Ministry foyer, and Rin wondered just how long he might wait in there before breaking his Ministry-imposed ban on speech and demanding his release. At his side, Sousuke eyed the Siren with distrust. "I didn't like you going in there with him alone back at the cabin, and I don't like it here."

"You know I only _joke_ that you're my bodyguard, right?" Rin elbowed him good-naturedly. "Besides, there's fifteen charms on that room that'll alert anyone within a hundred-meter radius if anything goes wrong—plus I'm sure you and the Director will keep a close watch on our little chat?"

"Damn straight." He clapped Rin on the shoulder. "Go work your magic."

"That's what they gave me the wand for," Rin returned with a quirk of his brows, and in a flourish of robes, he marched through the side door into the interrogation room, hoping his grand entrance might startle Haru into a reaction.

Unfortunately, only Haru's eyes twitched in his direction when he flung the door open, not even jerking as it slammed shut behind him, and Rin's eager grin quickly fled his features. The room was eerily silent from the Imperturbable charm sealing them off, and Rin cleared his throat uncomfortably as he tossed Haru's now-familiar folio onto the table between them. "We've really gotta stop meeting like this, Haru. People will start to talk." The Siren didn't rise to the bait still following him with his eyes and leaving Rin feeling like baitfish under the gaze of a hungry predator. He forced a laugh to lighten the mood as he drew the folio closer, flipping it open to peruse the topsheet for any updates. "C'mon—you're not still pissed you had to be dragged in here, are you? I told you, it's protocol, and whether you did the deed or not, you're still a valuable witness at the very least, so if I were you..." 

But Haru just pursed his lips, gaze imploring and frustrated when it met Rin's own—and he twigged. "...Dammit, did they slap a—no, what am I saying, of course they did." He fumbled at his side, drawing out his wand. "Here— _Finite Incantatum_." Haru instantly breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the tall-backed chair he occupied as Rin removed the Silencing charm that had evidently been placed on Haru for transport. He couldn't exactly _blame_ the wizards who'd overseen Haru's side-along Apparation back to Tokyo, but it seemed cruel not to dissolve the charm once he was in place, especially since the whole room had been Imperturbed. They could at least leave him a _shred_ of his dignity. He sighed to himself and sheathed his wand again, hoping he wouldn't need it for the duration of the Interrogation, and turned back to the folio. "Sorry about that—now, if it's all right with you, I'm gonna have this conversation Scrivelled. Do you consent?" He gestured to the Self-writing Quill stand set up at the far edge of the table. When Haru didn't give any indication of understanding what was being asked, he sighed, "This Quill—it's gonna record our conversation. You have to consent to the interrogation, or we can't admit your testimony." He added, to save further question, "And just so we're clear, not consenting isn't an option for you."

Haru eyed the Quill warily before finally allowing, "...I consent," and he jolted in place as the Quill quickly scritched out his words onto a roll of parchment.

"All right—now, let's start with your alibi. Tell me about your whereabouts yesterday evening, starting around 7." Haru continued to stare at the Quill as it scribbled out Rin's words, transfixed, until Rin had to actually slap the table lightly between them for his attention. "Your whereabouts?"

"I—at 7, I was still on shift at the cafe. I work the afternoon-evening shift, and I don't get off until 8."

Rin fought expressing his amusement at the thought of a Siren actually doing something so mundane as working at a _Muggle_ _cafe._ "So you left the cafe around 8, then? And were there the entire afternoon, otherwise?" A nod. "Can that be corroborated?"

Haru frowned, shrugging, "I...suppose so? You can ask the manager..."

Rin didn't want to involve Muggles in their investigation unless strictly necessary; his memory modification was shoddy at best, and Obliviators were a pain in the ass to work with. Instead, he focused on a niggling detail that had been bothering him since that morning: "So wait—let me get this straight, you work at a cafe? When you can't even speak?" Or had he been less than compliant with the Ministry's ban on extra-Aggregation speech by Sirens? 

"I don't need to speak to be able to cook; they call in the orders, I fire them. It's not very complicated. I manage."

Rin raised his brows, letting the matter drop for now. "Fine—so you worked your shift until that evening—8, you said?" A nod. "Then what?"

"After that, I stopped by the local produce shop. A customer gave me a mackerel-stock curry roux recipe, so I needed to get some pineapple and mushrooms from the grocer."

Rin made a face at the very idea of the recipe. "I thought you were a _chef_? How do mushrooms and mackerel and pineapple go together in _any_ way, let alone in a curry roux?"

Haru actually looked affronted, astonishment flashing over his features and finally shattering that stony mien. "Mackerel goes with everything," he explained, as if this were common knowledge. 

Rin opened his mouth, ready to laugh that _no one_ liked mackerel enough to mix it with mushrooms and pineapple, before he remembered the Quill scribbling out their every word, and he cleared his throat. "...Fine then; you made your purchase at the grocers'—which I'd like to go on record as thinking sounds _disgusting_ —then what?"

Haru's frown said he very much wanted to go back to discussing his choice in ingredients, but he swallowed his pride and continued with his response: "I unpacked, put the roux on to simmer overnight, and then retired to the pond around moonset."

Moonset—which last night would have been around 11. "And when did Councillor Kasahara arrive?"

Haru shifted uncomfortably, though it was hard to tell if he was uncomfortable because of the question, or because he probably wasn't used to sitting in chairs for long periods of time. "I—don't know. I said before that I only woke because I heard voices." His gaze lost focus as he let himself relax into thought. "After moonset, long after—it was dark."

"But not so dark you couldn't see, right?" Sirens had ridiculously good nocturnal vision, as anyone knew, so if Haru was thinking to get himself out of the hot seat with protests of sensory deprivation, he was sorely mistaken.

"No," Haru allowed, "Not if I'd been at surface, at least; but I wasn't. I sleep in the shallows, so any faces on the shore were distorted beyond recognition."

Convenient, that. "So you were underwater in the pond the whole time?"

"Only at first—it was the voices that woke me—"

"So now it's voices, plural?"

Haru looked annoyed, but he did seem to pause in genuine thought. "...Yes, it was two."

"You saw two people?"

"...No, but I heard two."

"So you heard two, but saw more? Or fewer?"

"I—don't recall. I told you, my memory of what happened after I surfaced became fuzzy. Can I at least finish my recollection before you start drilling me with questions?" It was Rin's turn to look affronted now, and he fought back a flash of embarrassment that wanted to pink his cheeks, motioning for Haru to continue; maybe Sousuke was right and was getting a bit too _Crime Scene Aurors_ with the case. "Voices woke me from sleep—arguing, sharp stacatto notes, though I couldn't make out their words. Male voices, though—deep, but barking."

"If you heard the Councillor's voice, could you identify it? Or match a suspect's voice to the other?"

Haru considered this for a moment before wincing and shaking his head. "...I doubt it. I was still half-asleep, and rather irritated at being roused. Plus, sound through a filter of water is unreliable at best." Rin frowned sourly; it had been worth a shot. "I thought at first that perhaps they were Muggles, that maybe the charm had failed and they'd wandered in unawares, and I didn't want to reveal myself to them, so I hung below the surface—but then I caught a burst of light that I thought might be lightning, so against my better judgment, I surfaced." He paused, then massaged his head with annoyance. "...Everything is a mess after that. Like the knowledge ought to be there, where I left it, but it's somewhere else."

"Yeah, memory modification will do that," Rin sympathized; they'd have to make an appointment with an Obliviator eventually to get this sorted out. At the very least, members of their division ought to be able to tell if there really _was_ some funny business going on, or if Haru was feeding them a line. "Leave it for now; what's the next thing you remember? After everything went fuzzy."

"I...must have blacked out at some point, and then I came to, beached on the shore—with the Councillor floating in the water. All alone with the gray of dawn approaching." He rubbed his arms, picking at the scales, now dry and dull, covering his elbows. "I didn't know what to do... If I was meant to contact the Muggle law enforcement agencies, or Magical ones, as I don't really interact that often with the Wizarding world. I eventually decided to contact the Probate."

"Better safe than sorry—and a good choice, in hind-sight." He settled back in his chair with a sigh. "We checked the Muggle-repelling charms on your property; they were all in working order, which means—assuming your story holds up—the voices you heard belonged to Wizards." He reached for the folio and drew out a newspaper clipping, including a photograph from one of Kasahara's recent press conferences. "Do you recognize this man?"

He passed the photo to Haru, who turned it around to get a better look, frowning at the man who grinned at him through the image as he waved grandly at supporters. "...Yes. The man in my pond. The man who was killed."

"Kasahara Yukio; one of the Tokyo Councillors on the Japanese Magical Diet. His Human Pride platform has gained substantial traction in recent years with an upswelling in Anti-Beast/Being sentiment." He drew the photograph back, slipping it back into the folio. "Councillor Kasahara was a vocal supporter of motions to strictly curtail Beast and Being rights, insisting that the influence of non-Human blood was diluting our innate magical abilities and that too-intimate ties to Beasts and Beings was muddying Wizarding culture. He voted twice to ban inter-species relations between compatible Beings and Humans, to have offspring of such unions culled from their full-blooded human counterparts and funneled into special communities, and to progressively filter out non-Humans—including half- or quarter-breeds—from positions which might otherwise be filled competently by human witches and wizards." He cocked his head. "Any thoughts on that?"

Haru regarded him blankly, not a flicker of emotion as Rin outlined the Councillor's ridiculous platform, and he wondered if such lack of overt expression was a Siren thing, or a Haru thing. "Am I meant to?"

Rin's brows drew together in annoyance. "Don't you think those are kind of shitty beliefs? He's talking about _you_ , you realize—Beasts and Beings. Running you out of your community, stripping you of any right to interact with Wizarding society."

Haru just shrugged, unaffected. "I don't involve myself in the affairs of wizarding kind, so I couldn't care less what he thinks of Sirens." Haru's words were starting to come out less clipped, more even in cadence—though his tone was still flat as ever. That was some small relief: he was starting to get used to talking, clearly no more gunshy about speaking his mind. Around Rin, at least.

"Well—whether you want to be involved or not, you're pretty deep in it now, so I'd get used to the idea of interacting with wizarding folk." Haru made a face that spoke volumes: he didn't like this idea at _all_.

There was a rapping knock on the door, and Rin twisted around, peering at the pane of glass despite knowing he couldn't see through it. He thinned his lips and warned Haru, "Stay put—I'll be right back."

"Can't exactly go anywhere, can I?" 

"Nope," Rin chirped, swanning out the door. He waited until it had shut behind him, sealing the room once more. "Well that was a collossal waste of time."

" _What_?" the Director griped from his seat, flopping back in defeat. "You're kidding me—nothing?"

"You can read the transcript yourself if you like, but we're not in much better of a position now than we were before I went in there." He leaned back against the wall for support. "He claims he's had next to no contact with the magical world for years—and likes it that way—so the idea that he'd suddenly get involved with politics doesn't really suit him. Sure, he could be a consummate actor, but...I dunno. He just seems _uncomfortably_ honest. Like he wouldn't know how to be deceitful—at least through the spoken word—if he wanted to." The three of them peered into the room, where Haru was now curiously inspecting the Self-writing Quill, which stood still with no speech to transcribe at the moment. "I'm sure even a cursory inquest into the Probate would corroborate a substantial portion of his claims, as they'd have kept a close eye on any trade or communication between a registered Siren and any members of the local Wizarding community. So that, combined with the marks we saw earlier on the victim as well as the circumstances of the alleged 'drowning' suggest to me...that he's being set up." He licked his lips, heartbeat thrumming a bit faster with the excitement of delivering his theories. "Someone wanted to make it look like a Siren killed a vocal Mer Rights opponent—frame Haru for the Councillor's murder. Maybe they wanted him dead for other reasons, maybe they wanted to stir up shit with the local Aggregates. I dunno. I just...don't think this is our man. Or, Siren."

Sousuke's frown made it clear he wasn't entirely on board with the idea, but before he could voice any concerns of his own, Sasabe interrupted with, "...I really _hate_ when you're right, Matsuoka. And I hoped to all that's good in the world that you'd come out of there with a confession, or at least motive or _something_. But I'm pretty sure you're on to something here—and my desk's already getting inundated with ravens wanting an official statement. Hell, even the _Iwatobi Inquisitor_ wants a quote, and I don't even know where that _is_."

"We could give them something vague," Sousuke suggested. "Say we're looking into the involvment of a Siren in the murder, that we're still examining the evidence, the interrogation is ongoing, blahblahblah?"

Sasabe waved him off. "If we let it leak that we're seriously considering a Siren as a suspect, the press will have a field day—especially since we _can't_ charge him with anything. We'll look like fools if we're wrong, and then we'll have the Mer Rights groups on us like bottle flies on centaur shit."

"Wha—you're _releasing_ him?" Sousuke laughed, incredulous, and Rin straightened up, ready to voice his agreement. "You can't just let him _go_ —even if he's not a serious suspect, he still saw _something_. We need to hold him, or—or—"

"I never said I was releasing him—so thanks for presuming to know my intentions, Yamazaki." Sousuke colored under the Director's glare, relenting, and Rin was suddenly glad he hadn't piped up. "We'll hold him for possible testimony; we still need to find out what's going on with his memory, after all, and his home's a crime scene now, so even if I wanted to release him on his own recognizance, I couldn't very well have him mucking up potential evidence."

"Plus, whoever did it could come back and...try to finish the job, take out the witness. Releasing him could do more harm than good," Rin added helpfully.

"So now you believe him?" Sousuke snorted. "A body was found in his pond—hundreds of kilometers from where it was meant to be; that's no coincidence."

"No, it's not," Sasabe agreed gravely. "Which is why we'll be keeping him close. The Ministry should be able to establish a safehouse for him, so we'll—"

"Wait—a safehouse?" Rin interrupted, frowning.

Sasabe raised his brows, clearly fighting frustration at continually being interrupted by his subordinates. "Yes, a safehouse. A secure location where he'll be monitored and guarded by trained professionals. The Ministry keeps several for such occasions, and while a Siren isn't exactly high-profile, I think they'll make an exception. Minister Amakata owes me a favor or three." Rin's expression must have reflected his discontent, for Sasabe pressed, "...Unless you have some objection?"

Rin glanced behind them through the spelled glass—Haru was poking the Quill now, running a finger along the feather and trying to blow it over, setting it to wobbling on its point. He was way too _new_ ; Siren though he might be, he'd lived as Muggle a life as was possible for a non-human for what sounded like several years. He worked as a chef, he had a Muggle _boss_. He didn't know what Veela were, and he had evidently never seen a Self-writing Quill before. If they threw him in a safehouse surrounded by witches and wizards who had no idea how to effectively communicate with him save through perhaps notes scribbled on parchment, he'd probably wind up just trying to escape for all the frustration they were going to subject him to. And who knew how long this investigation might go on—sure, he could probably stand a couple days' holed up in an unfamiliar room in an even _more_ unfamiliar world, with total strangers scared to cross him for fear he'd Enthrall them, but a few weeks? _Months_? 

If it were Rin, forced to rough it Muggle-style with no one to turn to, no one to help...he'd probably go stir-crazy. And no one—not even stubborn Sirens with terrible taste—deserved that. Which was why the next words out of Rin's mouth were: "He can stay at my place."

"He— _what_?" came two voices in concert, with Sousuke following up, "Are you _insane_? Splinch your brain on the return trip, maybe? Because it _sounded_ like you just said—"

"Haru can stay with me, in my apartment. I'll look after him."

"Yeah, that's what it sounded like—but that can't be what you said. Because that would be _moronic_." He ran both hands through his hair, gesturing wildly through the glass. "He's a _murder suspect_."

"No he's not; that's the problem," Rin reasoned smartly.

Sousuke shook a finger in his face. "Don't give me that. You know what I mean; he's a total stranger—just throw him in a safehouse and be done with it."

"Director," Rin pleaded, turning his arguments to the man who'd actually have the final say, "We can put him in a safehouse, if you think that's best—but I'm the only one who can speak with him, and he'll probably be more comfortable with at least a _familiar_ face if not a friendly one. That could help in ensuring his cooperation, which can only aid our case."

Sasabe frowned. "...I've gotta agree with Yamazaki here—he may not be our prime suspect, but he's involved in this business _some_ how."

" _Thank_ you," Sousuke breathed.

"...However, he does seem finicky, and I'd rather have him close at-hand—and you as well—should we need any information from him urgently." He inhaled deeply, releasing it slowly with a reluctant nod. "It's your call; if you're comfortable housing him for a week or so, then we'll see about getting him released into your custody. But, he'll be _your_ responsibility, and—" He raised a finger. "I'm putting a security detail on assignment to your building. Yamazaki—" Sousuke winced, expression beyond bitter at being overruled. "I'll be counting on you to help Matsuoka keep an eye on our guest."

"Absolutely," he vowed.

Sasabe nodded sharply, rising to his feet. "Very well. Stay here and keep an eye on him, and I'll go see to that paperwork; expect a raven within 15."

"Yes, sir," they chorused—Rin's more energetic than Sousuke's, and the moment the Director exited the viewing room, Sousuke rounded on him with thinly veiled frustration and fury.

"You're _such_ an impetuous idiot sometimes, you know?"

Rin rolled his eyes, slipping down into the chair the Director had just vacated. "You sure do know how to woo a guy. Sweep me off my feet, why don't you?"

"I'm serious." Sousuke jerked his chin toward the Siren on the other side of the glass. "You met him six _hours_ ago; and now you're offering him your bed?"

Rin snorted incredulously. "Wow, no? I've got a guest bedroom, for one—and this works out best for the investigation for another. He's no more a danger to me than any other witness we might be harboring, and I'm the one best suited to look after him. You said it yourself this morning: the case has need of my _invaluable services_. Consider this, services rendered." Sousuke's lips thinned in irritation, and Rin reassured, "Besides, the Director's assigning a security detail, remember? And you'll be right next door, ready to charge to my rescue should Haru...I dunno, try to feed me mackerel curry." 

Sousuke's brows drew together in confusion. "What?"

"You don't wanna know." Their conversation was interrupted by the frantic, fluttering entrance of a raven, as it made a circuit of the room before alighting on a wall perch and extending its leg. It squawked, demanding attention, until Rin bustled over to relieve it of its message, mouthing the words to himself. "I'm to escort Haru to the Front Desk to sign release papers, and then get him settled in. Looks like I'm meant to report back with him first thing in the morning to speak to the Obliviators about this mess with his memories." He passed the parchment over. "And you're meant to go shake down Kasahara's detail, try and get statements from them about his whereabouts last night."

Sousuke reviewed the message, lips pursed, but he eventually nodded his assent as he crumpled up the parchment. "All right—I know when I'm beat, but—" He waved a finger accusingly. "I'll be right next door, and I'm not gonna apologize for blasting your front door off its hinges if I think he's endangering you, got it?"

Rin withdrew his wand, side-stepping Sousuke to remove the Imperturbable charm and deliver the news to their guest regarding his lodgings. "If he was trying to feed me mackerel curry, I would welcome any attempts to intervene, the state of my front door be damned."


	3. Chapter 3

“Just—hold on to my arm and walk with me. That’s all you have to do; it’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s _fire_ —”

Rin rolled his eyes. “It’s not _real_ fire—I mean, it doesn’t hurt? It’s just the flashback from the floo powder.” He gestured around the foyer to the other grates to either side of them, the air in the immediate vicinity filled with billowy traces of excess floo powder as witches and wizards cast handfuls before themselves and announced their destinations. “Look, see? Everyone else is doing it, and you don’t hear any screams of death throes or see people leaping back out covered in flames, right?”

Haru cast about nervously, eyeing an elderly wizard toddling over to an urn placed conveniently just to the side of the grate he’d waited in line before, as if he suspected the whole thing to be a ruse and that Rin might merely be preparing to dine on charbroiled Siren that evening.

At their back, Rin caught the annoyed murmurs of others waiting in line for their turn—and as it was nearing the end of the workday, they were all probably eager to get home. Haru’s reluctance was trying both theirs and Rin’s patience, and with an annoyed huff, he looped his arm through Haru’s, jerking him abruptly along, and cast a handful of green powder into the flames, barking, “Hasegawa Heights!”

The flames flared up around them, glowing with nacreous light, and they were instantly sucked into the bowels of the floo network—before being unceremoniously spit out, on wobbling legs, into the foyer of Rin’s apartment building.

He didn’t recall who exactly ‘Hasegawa’ had been—he thought perhaps it had been the wizard who’d bred a strain of kappa-repelling cattails, or maybe it had been self-steaming rice. Either way, he’d called this building home for nearly seven years now, since first migrating here from his family's home well outside the city limits, and he thought there were worse places to live.

Most of the tenants in the spacious complex were Ministry workers, like himself, so the floo room near the entrance was routinely bustling and crowded with the crush of the morning and evening commute, but Rin had managed to get the Director to let them off early today, under the pretense of getting Haru settled in, so they’d beaten the crowds for the most part.

Haru was now clinging, with all the strength in his body, to Rin’s arm, and the delicate, deadly curve to the tips of his nails was _really_ starting to hurt where he had his fingers digging into Rin’s bicep, so he gave a light shake. “You can let go, now—we’re here.” He added, for good measure, “And you’re not grilled, fried, or fricasseed.”

Haru immediately released his grasp, and Rin breathed a mental sigh of relief; he’d have to give the guy a talking to before they went anywhere else, if this was going to be a regular occurrence. Or just sneak up on him and Side-along Apparate before he knew what hit him.

He tried for distraction, instead, gesturing to the room. “Some witches and wizards try to ‘rough it’ in Muggle buildings, especially since the rent on an unused custodial closet outfitted with an Extension charm is next to nothing compared with the going rate for a room in a place like this, but since the Ministry subsidizes the rent in this building, it’s where I’ve chosen to put down roots.”

Haru said nothing, taking in the sight in silence, and Rin wondered at the thoughts going through his mind. He’d shied away from one of the ravens squawking at him for a treat as they’d taken the elevator down to ground level, winced the moment they’d stepped into the Floo foyer as a spry witch with a tall, pointed hat had marched into the flames, and gone even paler than normal when they’d run into Yazaki from the Committee on Experimental Charms, holding the severed ear he hoped someone in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes might be able to reattach.

It was a lot to absorb, for someone who’d ostensibly spent most of his life cloistered away in a little no-name town among Muggles, and Rin almost envied him. Magic was work for Rin, now; not wonder. 

He clapped Haru on the shoulder and strode past, making for the staircase; his rooms were on the fourth floor, so he hoped Haru was fit enough for a little hike. They were both of them panting lightly by the time they reached Rin’s floor, and blessedly the nosy Kimachi-san seemed to be out running errands still, or else Rin was sure he’d have to field a barrage of questions from her as to the life history of his ‘guest’.

He waved his wand in a swooping motion over his door, deactivating the wards, and fit a rusty key into the lock, giving it a rough turn as he shoved into the genkan.

Tama was already waiting in the entryway, bottle-brush tails swishing across the floor as he greeted Rin with a throaty mewl to welcome him home, and Rin hiked up his robes and began to unlace his boots with one hand while he gave the _nekomata_ a good ear-scratch with the other. “Get your appointed fifteen hours of sleep today, hm?”

“A cat?” came Haru’s curious voice from behind, and Rin shuffled to the side to let Haru get a better look. The audible gasp he released told him when he’d noticed Tama had more tails than most cats. “What’s…”

Rin toed off his boots, stepping up and out of the genkan to allow Haru to do the same with space, and he scooped Tama up into his arms, eager to show him off. “This is Tama. He’s a _nekomata_ —my sister got him for me as a kitten a few years back.” He raised a brow. “You don’t like cats?”

“No, I…I do, but…” He looked like he was fighting an inner battle, his cheeks flushed with excitement like he was barely restraining himself from reaching out to stroke Tama’s velvety nose, but his shoulders still squared and wary at all the _new_.

“He’s not a cat, not really—but he’ll do in a pinch.” He thought about offering to let Haru hold the animal, but then decided against it. Baby steps would be best. Instead, he turned on his heel and beckoned for Haru to follow. “C’mon, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

They made their way through the tiny kitchenette, which was relatively clean given that Rin had been doing most of his eating (and a fair portion of his sleeping) at the Ministry offices for the past week and a half. All over again, he cursed his luck; he’d _really_ been looking forward to a nice couple of days off, not a brand new case involving a house-guest.

He gestured to the stove. “There’s no gas; the building’s too old for it, and most of the tenants will just use wandwork to cook their meals or heat their baths. But we’ve got running water, so you shouldn’t have problems working the tap, I think.” Haru glanced around the kitchen, brows furrowing in dawning concern, and Rin wondered if he was making mental note of all the Muggle gadgets and gizmos he was going to have to do without. Rin couldn’t have named even three of the contraptions sitting back in Haru’s kitchen if he’d had a wand to his throat, so it was probably going to be stale bread and tap water for Haru if he wanted to make something for himself. “The pantry’s through there, but I’m warning you it’s pretty slim pickings.”

“A fridge?”

“Like a cooler?” He nodded to the cabinet in the corner. “Right side’s got a chilling charm, for things like milk and other perishables; left’s got a freezing charm.”

Haru nodded, and Rin guessed that even if he didn’t understand the finer points of how it worked, he would be able to figure out how to use it easily enough.

They moved into the den, which was sparsely decorated, and Tama clamored to be let down—padding over to the sofa to leap up onto the cushions and curl up for a nap. Haru watched him go with a fond little smile, and Rin felt a surge of relief. He couldn’t live with someone who wasn’t a cat—or cat _beast_ —person.

Further on, they reached the hallway leading back into the bedrooms. Rin opened a door on his left. “Bathroom; the tub and shower’s further in. Oh—” He glanced back at Haru, who was peeking around him to inspect the facilities, and frowned to himself. “The tub’s kinda small, if you insist on a bath versus a shower…” Haru wrinkled his nose but said nothing more, and if he was going to give Rin the silent treatment, then he’d have to deal with cramped spaces.

They finally reached the guest bedroom, which was really nothing more than a bed frame, sagging mattress, and desk—but he supposed it would have to do. “It’s not the Keio, but it’s home. You’ll have to lock the door at night, though; Tama knows how to unlatch a closed door, and you’ll wake up with him on your chest trying to suck out your soul.” Haru blanched, eyes popping wide in shock as he glanced back into the den where Tama dozed on the couch, and Rin snorted. “God you’re easy to get one over on. I’m kidding. About the soul-sucking thing; not the lock bit. You really should lock it if you don't want him sleeping on your chest.”

He stepped back, inviting Haru to inspect, and after throwing Rin a chiding look for the nasty joke, he tentatively entered, running his eyes over the walls and sparse furniture. Rin hadn’t seen Haru’s bedroom back at the pond, and after a moment’s curious wondering about how he might have his room decorated (half-eaten fish carcasses in a garbage pail by the bed? strands of kelp wound decoratively around ivy trellises?), Rin recalled with dread that Haru had mentioned he slept _in the damn pond_.

He breathed a curse to himself—would he have to try and transfigure the bed into a tub large enough to sleep a Siren? He could handle little jobs, but ever since spraining his wrist in a fall sustained while chasing _akateko_ up trees in Yoyogi Park, he’d lost the dexterity to get the wand flick right for transfiguring anything bigger than a breadbox. He could probably convince Haru to forgo baths for showers, but what if he _needed_ to immerse himself?

Shit. He was quickly realizing with dawning horror he didn’t recall nearly enough about Siren biology from his training to _house_ one for an extended period of time. He could ask, sure—but that would demonstrate in living color how woefully unprepared he was for the task.

Wait—no, he could be subtle about this. No need to just pelt Haru with questions; they could have a _conversation_ , and through innocent discussion of the weather and inquiring after each other’s mothers, Rin would obtain the needed information. He worked for the Ministry of Magic, dammit. He would not be undone by a new roommate.

Deciding against broaching the subject of the bed for now, and crossed his arms and cleared his throat. “So, I guess it’s been kind of a weird day for you… Wanna hit the baths?”

Haru’s ears pricked up visibly, and he froze where he’d been tracing the thin sheen of dust covering the desk. “Baths?”

Rin nodded as Haru shifted around to face him. “There’s a wizarding communal bath in 2.5-chome. They’ve got a cafeteria connected, just outside the changing rooms, so maybe we can grab something to eat there after a soak?”

Haru nearly knocked him flat on his back, so quickly did he charge out of the room, heading for the front door.

* * *

“…You really like water, huh?” Rin marveled, taking in Haru’s flushed expression as they stepped into the huge open space of the bath house. If the fact that Haru had willingly approached the floo grate in the apartment foyer hadn’t made it clear enough, then this sight now surely sealed it.

The bathhouse— _Sakegahara’s Sentou_ —was a short walk from the 2.5-chome Floo hub, and given the hour, it was fairly empty, as most customers flocked to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. Rin preferred the privacy, wary of overwhelming Haru, but for his part, the Siren showed none of the wariness or suspicion he’d demonstrated earlier. Perhaps Muggle bathhouses weren’t so different.

He led the way to the changing area, securing lockers for themselves and fishing out a set of clean robes for Haru. “We didn’t exactly give you time to pack a change of clothes, I guess…” he apologized with a wry grin, and after a moment’s hesitation, Haru ducked a nod of thanks and took the robes, hanging them inside his own locker. Rin busied himself with stripping down, muscles twinging with aches as if his body sensed the upcoming relief awaiting it and was urging him on. Towel securely in place, he grabbed the little bucket filled with all manner of body wash potions and scalp massaging infusions and turned to Haru, the rules of the bathhouse perched on his tongue. “Now, first we have to— _whoa_.”

He barely kept himself from taking a visible step back at the sight before him. It was easy, with layers of clothing covering his frame, to forget that Haru wasn’t human—that the fact that he even _looked_ remotely human was merely product of years of adaptation, not through any real _connection_ to man as a species. But with nothing more than a thin towel protecting his modesty, all of the ways in which Haru differed from Rin, from Sousuke, from Sasabe and everyone else working at the Ministry were laid clear. “…You’ve got no nipples!”

Haru frowned, glancing down at his chest, and brought fingers up to brush over his breastbone where a pair of dark areolae _ought_ to have been. “…Should I?”

“Well—” Rin huffed, mostly out of annoyance with himself, “No. I mean. Of course not. Just. It’s not every day you see—or, don’t see. You know.” He waved a hand, feeling his cheeks begin to heat with shame. “Whatever. I just forgot.”

“Forgot?”

“That’s you’re—well. Not human.”

Haru’s gaze flicked from his own chest over to Rin’s, and he got the distinct feeling that Haru was making a careful observation of _his_ nipples now. Scrambling to cover his chest with one hand and balance the bucket of potions with the other, he turned on one heel and marched out of the changing room with his face aflame.

Rin wanted to protest aloud here that it real _had_ only been a surprise, because he’d studied this back in school. He had a _basic_ understanding of Mer-folk biology, he _did_. But there was a difference between reading something in a dusty old textbook and seeing it standing before your very eyes, clad in nothing but a towel, eyes dancing with desire to shove you out of the way and make for the nearest pool of water.

Rin led them over to the bathing stations first, reminding Haru that he needed to scrub himself down properly before relaxing in one of the baths. “Especially,” he added with a wrinkle of his nose, “Since you’ve been living in a pond most of your life.”

Haru cut him a glare, but did as requested, squatting on a low bench alongside Rin and working the potions Rin passed to him into a lather with skill that said he did at least bathe regularly. That was a relief. When he strained to reach his back, glancing about in annoyance when no back scrubber presented itself, Rin chuckled softly and instructed him to turn around. “Guess you don’t get someone else willing to do this too often around your place, huh?”

“Sometimes Makoto does it, if he stays over.”

Rin straightened up. “Makoto?” A friend? Or…a _more_ than friend, maybe? How did a Siren land a lover when he couldn’t even ask them out?

But Haru didn’t elaborate, though his shoulders did relax a hair as Rin worked his back. He ran the sponge gently over the patches of scales, taking care to remove any dirt lodged under or between them, and smiled to himself with pride in a job well done as they shimmered in the lamplight filtered through the thick steam of the bathhouse. “There, good as new.”

Haru craned his neck, as if trying to see behind him, but seemed to decide to give Rin the benefit of the doubt. He glanced around, seeking out the larger baths, and Rin snorted softly, shaking his head. “All right, fine—here, douse yourself once more, make sure you’re suds-free, and then we’ll see about taking a dip in the pools.”

Haru filled the bucket at his feet with alacrity, rinsing himself off several times, just to be safe, before giving a whip of his head to shift his hair from his eyes and rising to his feet. Rin scooped up their basket, walking it over to the far wall with Haru hot on his heels. Tile-lined soaking pools steamed merrily before them, their clear waters piping hot and inviting, and Rin barely stifled a verbal sigh of relief at the thought of jumping in.

Beside him, Haru leaned over the edge to inspect the pool, his frown evidence that the pools didn’t meet his undoubtedly exacting standards. “…It’s small,” he muttered sourly, glancing at the other pools lining the wall as if he thought maybe Rin had merely neglected to show him the bigger pools.

Rin just rolled his eyes, squatting to set the basket down and remove his towel. “There’s an expansion charm on them; they’re bigger—and deeper—than they look.”

Haru still looked skeptical, and he reached out a hand to tentatively brush the water, jerking it back with a hiss. “…And hot.”

“Picky picky,” Rin chided, but he snatched his wand out of the basket, one hand holding his towel closed. After a quick glance to be sure they weren’t disturbing any other bathers who might prefer the water scalding, he muttered _Glacius_ and kept his wand movements subtle; he didn’t want to freeze the bath, just lower its temperature a few degrees to something more temperate that the both of them could enjoy. “There, try that.”

Haru was back on guard, perhaps wondering if Rin hadn’t turned the water to acid or something, and when he balked long enough to cause offense, Rin flicked his wand through the water to splash some over him. “Wimp.” Haru winced, flinching as he was drenched, but quickly realized it really _was_ only water and then reached into the pool to test for himself. “Better?” A nod. “Good, let’s get in; I’ve been looking forward to this for days.”

He reached around to adjust the tie on his towel again—but Haru just threw a leg over the side and started to step in. “Whoa—hey, wait! You can’t wear your towel in there! C’mon, give it here.”

Haru sat on the edge of the bath, frowning, but quickly worked the towel loose and threw it directly at Rin’s face. He sputtered in offense, casting the towel aside, and raised his voice to give the Siren what-for. “ _Hey_ , listen up, I—”

But words failed him as he caught himself mesmerized by the play of color spreading over Haru’s thighs and calves now, like wine spilled across a pristine tablecloth. The patches of scales he’d paid little heed to earlier began to multiply, stretching vibrant tendrils over the pale expanse of flesh as Haru’s legs all but melted together. He knew it wasn’t polite to stare, knew he should look away, or use Haru’s distraction with his transformation to hop in the water himself, but he couldn’t stop _gawking_. Because there was hearing about Shifters—werewolves and merfolk and animagi and such—and then there was _seeing_ it happen before your eyes.

He’d watched a professor demonstrate polyjuice potion his senior year and thought that amazing; this, though…was _mesmerizing_. Like a _performance_ , a transformation so controlled, so smooth and elegant, that Rin half wondered if it _wasn’t_ actually that: a show, meant to impress. But when he managed to tear his eyes away as Haru’s toes stretched and thinned into membranous flukes that just brushed the surface of the pool below, he found Haru’s eyes closed in concentration, his features stiff.

“…Damn,” Rin breathed, swallowing thickly, and Haru’s eyes snapped open, cutting Rin a frown before pushing off the tiled edge to plop down into the water and quickly disappearing beneath the surface. Rin scrambled to the edge, peering over, but all he caught was the glint of lamplight off smooth scales flashing now and then.

Was this what everyone else felt like when Rin walked into a room?

He shook his head, brushed his entranced gawking off as the steam going to his head, and quickly tossed aside his towel to hop in. He kept to the benches lining the edge for now; he liked swimming well enough, made time every few weeks for a couple of hours in the pool in the Ministry’s gymnasium, but he wasn’t interested in exercise at the moment. He wanted to relax—so he let his head settled back against the tile, neck craning, and closed his eyes. Inhale, hold, exhale; inhale, hold, exhale.

_’Don’t think about Councillors being snuffed, don’t think about how you still might have to transfigure that bed, don’t think about the fact that Haru can probably see well enough even underwater to get an eyeful.’_

He squeezed his legs together at that last thought, drawing his knees to his chest with a frown. He was never going to get a _real_ day off, it was time to accept. There would be days with a heavy workload and days with a light one, and days where he didn’t have to come into the office, but one way or another, he was probably going to wind up married to his work. And with as celibate a sex-life as generally came with marriage, too.

With his eyes still closed, he strained his other senses to take in the activity around him; in the distance, he could hear the soft din of the cafeteria—clinking glasses and murmurs of customers—and closer, he could hear the hiss of running water and the burble of water lapping at the edges of the pool. Ripples pelted his chest gently—accompanied by the _whap_ of something striking the surface, and Rin supposed that Haru had surfaced for a moment before quickly ducking back down.

“I take it you’re having a good time, then?” he called out amicably, unused to sitting alone in stark silence. If Haru wasn’t up for chatting, then Rin would just have to make conversation for the both of them. “I dunno how you handle living out there in the sticks, Muggling it the way you were.” He shrugged to himself. “I mean, if cooking’s your passion, you could always get a job at a cafe in the wizarding quarter of a city of any size, earn some coin and come to bathhouses like these whenever you like—or stretch your legs…fins, whatever, and take a vacation along some protected stretch of beach…” He sighed audibly when Haru didn’t rise to the bait. “…You don’t talk much, do you?”

“You talk enough for the both of us,” came a voice startlingly close, and Rin snapped to attention, scrambling back against the wall.

Bringing a hand to his chest to keep his heart from bursting through it, he huffed, “Geez, give me some warning next time.”

Haru merely cocked his head, eyeing Rin curiously as he floated close enough to reach out and touch. “…How come you’re allowed to speak?”

“Huh?” Rin struggled to follow the shift in conversation, before realizing Haru meant to ask why Rin was allowed to speak so freely while Haru’s speech was tightly restricted. “Oh.” He wove a bit, sending the water rippling between them. “Because I don’t exert my Influence through my voice.”

Haru’s gaze grew more calculating, and Rin could feel him weighing how truthful (or not) Rin was being on this point. “How do you, then?”

Rin felt something _twang_ in his chest; he _had_ it. Something Haru wanted: knowledge, information. And he was not going to give it up that easily, not now that Haru was starting to open up to him, if only a little bit. If he could close some of the distance between them, perhaps he'd get Haru to be a little more _honest_ , maybe give up something he hadn't thought to mention (or had been hiding) during the interrogation. Haru wasn't here as an idle houseguest, after all, Rin reminded himself. He was a witness, possible suspect (maybe; better safe than sorry), and sure, a little fun to tease, but Rin still had to play his cards close to the chest. 

"...Through other means," he allowed with a thin grin, and Haru predictably slumped down into the water, blowing irritated bubbles, which drew a genuine laugh from Rin. "You're gonna have to be chattier if you want straight answers from me."

Haru bobbed back up, dark hair heavy with water and plastered to his head as water trickled down in narrow streams over his shoulders. "...Before..."

Rin's throat tightened hands instinctively coming up to provide cover; crap, were they gonna talk about _nipples_ again? "Be...Before...what?"

Haru shifted over, floating just to the side of Rin and hauling himself far enough out of the water to rest on the edge, arms crossed beneath his chin to form a pillow. He flicked piercing blue eyes Rin's way, narrowing them warily. "You said...you were a Veela."

"Oh." He relaxed a hair. "Well yeah. 'Cause I am. Half, at least." Haru clearly wanted the rest of the story, and Rin was more than willing to share—but Haru was going to have to work for it. He didn't intend to trick the Siren into breaking the Ministry-enforced ban on speech, but he needed the guy talkative, cooperative. _Normal_. Or as close to normal as someone like Haru probably came. Wouldn't it be just his luck he got stuck with a _naturally_ taciturn Siren who liked to keep everything bottled up inside because even the mere act of moving his lips was too much effort?

When silence stretched between them, Haru visibly warring inside with the parts of him that were curious about Rin's ancestry and the parts only interested in making the best of a bad situation with minimal annoyance, Rin reminded, "If you want to know something, you're gonna have to ask. Surely it feels good to finally _speak_ with someone properly, right?" Haru just shrugged, but he refused to meet Rin's gaze when Rin tried to check his eyes for the truth, and Rin snorted. "Fine, be that way." He closed his eyes again and settled his head back, trying for some of that calm he'd channeled before, but the flash of irritation at Haru's stubborn refusal to even engage in conversation gnawed at him. It shouldn't have been that big a deal—he was _literally_ out of his element, sharing quarters with a complete stranger, wandering through a world he'd known existed but never really been a _part_ of, so Rin could probably spare a bit of patience.

What he wouldn't admit, at least not aloud, was that he kind of liked the company. Even if it was forced, it wasn't the kind of 'forced interaction' that Rin usually dealt with. Haru was here because it was either this or a Ministry safehouse under constant guard. Not because he felt compelled to spend time with Rin, not because his blood ran hot for reasons he couldn't understand when Rin wandered near. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught up in a scandal he probably had no connection to, and for all that, Rin guessed he was doing pretty well.

But would it kill him to exchange a few pleasantries with someone who hadn't gone a day in his life without wondering if people were being nice to him because they genuinely wanted to be nice, or because they couldn't resist his Charm?

A hand came up, gently jostling his shoulder, and this time Rin didn't flinch as violently. "What?" he muttered, eyes still closed and tone suitably annoyed.

"Rin. I want to know about Veela."

"Well I don't feel like talking about Veela now."

He could almost _hear_ the pout in Haru's voice. "...That's not fair."

He sighed loudly. "You're right, that's _not_ fair." He slicked his hair back away from his face, rubbing at his eyes, and then pushed away from the side, floating out into the deeper waters of the pool and flashing a grin. "I'll tell you all you want to know about Veela—if you can beat me in a race."

* * *

In hindsight, the challenge had not been a very bright idea. Rin was out of practice, Haru _had fins_ , and the pool wasn't big enough to dive into and really work up speed. This was how Rin rationalized his series of losses to Haru which resulted in him piecemealing out the bits of information he was prepared to divulge—that they couldn't survive having their hair forcibly plucked, that males were so rare as to be thought a myth, that full-blooded females could conjure fire—keen to keep most of the relevant details for later use as carrots to dangle over Haru's head.

After his stomach started gurgling its protest for a meal an hour later, Rin finally managed to convince Haru to haul himself out and get legs again so that they could take advantage of the cafeteria before it closed for the evening. He passed Haru his towel while he was still half submerged, scrambling out and hastily wrapping himself to protect his modesty once again lest it turn out that out Sirens didn't have asscheeks either and Haru decide to gape at Rin's. Changing into their robes proved another interesting exercise, as Haru struggled to fit his body parts in the correct holes, and while the final product did look a bit ruffled, Rin could see potential. Maybe he'd spring for a few nice outfits for the Siren to take back with him when this was all over, so that he didn't stick out like such a sore thumb whenever he needed to travel to wizarding areas.

By the time they reached the Floo Hub, Haru was so sated with food that he didn't seem to remember he was supposed to be scared stiff of the transport, and he all but dozed upright leaning against Rin's side as they stepped into the green flames. Rin practically had to drag him up the stairs, wondering if this was going to be a regular occurrence with Haru: exercise plus food combining to send him spiraling into a doze. By the time they reached Rin's floor, he was _seriously_ regretting not just casting a _Mobilicorpus_ and being done with it.

"Rin."

Haru instantly snapped awake at Sousuke's abrupt greeting, spine going stiff at Rin's side and claws digging painfully into his forearm as he scurried around behind Rin to use him as a shield. Rin hissed in pain, giving his arm a shake, and Haru instantly released his grip but held his ground. "Evening."

Sousuke craned his neck to get a better glimpse of Haru, still cowering behind Rin. "Where have you two been? I knocked on your door when I got home, but no one answered."

It couldn't have been urgent, or he surely would have sent a Patronus out to seek him, if he wasn't sure enough of their destination to hire a raven to fly them a message. "Sakagahara's. We caught dinner."

"The _baths_? You took him out in _public_?"

Rin frowned. "He needed a good scrubdown, and I wasn't going to get my tub all scummy with pondmuck."

Sousuke rolled his eyes. "You're such a fucking priss."

"Bath rings are _no one's_ friend." The tension in the atmosphere between them relaxed a hair, and Rin sought to settle the high tempers even further. "How did things work out with Kasahara's detail?"

Sousuke frowned as Rin brought up the case, grimacing. "...Not good. No need to get into details now—" He cast a wary glance Haru's way. "It can hold until the morning."

Rin nodded. "All right; well, we're beat, and I think you mentioned a Quidditch match you were bound and determined not to miss?"

Sousuke quickly glanced down at his wrist. "Shit—yeah, thanks for the reminder." He moved to duck back into his apartment, large frame nearly filling the doorway, but he paused just long enough to cast a worried gaze Rin's way. "...You'll call, if you need anything, right?"

"Don't I always?"

"No, you don't. That's the trouble." His smile was fond, but his tone was admonishing, and Rin waved him off. "Fine, fine. Night."

"Night~" Rin sing-songed, waiting until Sousuke had retreated back into his apartment to breathe a sigh of relief. "Geez he's been uptight lately..." He muttered to himself, then glanced over his shoulder where Haru cowered, glaring daggers at Sousuke's closed door. "C'mon, let's get inside; Tama's probably wondering where we ran off to."

Haru didn't budge, though, still staring. "...He doesn't like me."

"Don't take it personally." He reached out and grabbed Haru by the wrist, giving a gentle tug. "He doesn't like anyone."

"He likes _you_ ," Haru pointed out blandly.

Rin just shrugged, smiling. " _Everyone_ likes me." When Haru didn't protest this with _Not me_ , Rin chalked it up as a rare win. He couldn't outswim Haru—not yet, at least—but he still had the upper hand when it came to sharp tongues. And that would be enough for now.


	4. Chapter 4

Rin was roused from sleep by Tama’s plaintive mewling and batting at his face—and then jolted into consciousness when a loud _clang_ echoed through the apartment. He cursed softly, shuffling out of bed, and tugged on a loose robe as Tama nervously wound between his ankles. “You’re gonna make me trip and break my neck,” he groused, voice rough with sleep, and Tama darted through his door as soon as he opened it.

He peeked warily into the hall, seeking out the source of the noise, and Tama mewled again to direct Rin’s attention to the kitchen. He glanced at the closed door leading to the guest room, pressing an ear to the wood, but detected no sounds of life—and as he rounded the corner into the kitchen area, his worst fears were confirmed: Haru was trying to make breakfast.

Wearing nothing but an apron.

“Oh— _geez_!” Rin squawked, attempting to avert his eyes as he felt his way back toward the shower room, where he grabbed a thin towel from the rack and tossed it at Haru. “Put on some pants, would you!”

Haru turned to face him, watching silently as the towel he’d been tossed dropped to the floor, before returning his attention to Rin. “…Good morning.”

Rin ignored the greeting, gesturing vaguely in Haru’s direction with one hand while shielding his eyes with the other. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Haru glanced down at the mess he’d made of Rin’s tiny dining room table, his careful stacks of paperwork and scrolls to peruse shoved to one side to make room for what he strongly suspected were expired foodstuffs Haru had dug out of his cold box. “Trying to make breakfast. You didn’t have any mackerel, and while I did find a salmon filet buried at the bottom of your chiller, I’m not entirely sure it’s still fit for consump—”

“That’s not—I mean _why are you naked?_ And in my favorite apron, too!” Haru frowned, patting down the material, then brought his hands up to the strap around his neck in an effort to tug it off. Rin rushed over, heart in his throat. “Wait—wait nononono, never mind, leave it.” He was going to have to Scourgify the apron, he suspected. Or else just burn it to ashes in Fiendfyre. He clapped Haru on the shoulders, forcing a smile. “Just…why don’t you go get changed? I’ll put everything back to rights here and make breakfast while you get ready.”

Haru took a step back, glancing at the table. “The fish has nearly thawed, though.” He raked Rin over with a discerning eye. “…And you should take care of yourself before suggesting that others make themselves presentable.”

Rin patted his sleeprobe with a frown. “I’m not wearing this out—and you’re _naked_!”

“So? This is a private domicile, no?”

“Yeah, _my_ private domicile. And we wear clothes here. _All the time_.”

Haru’s face twisted into a sour scowl. “Annoying.”

Rin rolled his eyes. “You can strut around in the buff as much as you like once we get you back to your pond, but while you’re under my roof, you’ll at least wear pants. If you need any…” He dared a quick glance down at Haru’s midsection, blessedly covered by the length of the apron. They seemed of a size, certainly closer in build than Rin and Sousuke, but he wasn’t quite ready to just grant Haru unfettered access to his wardrobe. “…Then we’ll go shopping. You probably need a few sets of your own robes anyway.” Maybe they’d drop by the Shibuya 109¾ and get him properly outfitted after they finished their business at the Ministry today. He made a shooing gesture. “Now go—pants. I’ll cook.”

Haru wasn’t about to be moved, though, and he stood his ground. “ _I’ll_ cook—if you’ll light a fire.”

“No way I’m lighting anything while you stand in my kitchen _naked_ —“

“I have an apron on,” Haru reminded.

“I can handle the cooking—but I can’t handle you without clothes on. Now _go_.”

Haru still refused, frown more resolute. “I’m a _chef_. You’re going to banish me from a kitchen, simply because I don’t care to clothe myself when I’m in private?”

Rin wiped a hand over his face. “Does your boss let you wander around without clothes on in this cafe you work at?” Haru’s face fell, and he petulantly refused to meet Rin’s eyes. “My point exactly.” He crossed his arms over his chest and thinned his lips; this wasn’t something he was used to—people not doing what he wanted them to. Usually anyone he spoke to fell over themselves trying to comply, with Sousuke really the only one who could ever tell him ‘no’. He’d almost forgotten how _frustrating_ it was not getting his way, and Haru was truly testing him.

But he had a point about the chef thing—and with a dramatic sigh, Rin waved him off. “Fine—go change into something that covers more than just your front, and I’ll start a cooking fire for you. Then you can ravage my kitchen as you please while I shower.” He shook a finger threateningly. “Just—don’t burn the place down, okay?”

Haru’s expression relaxed into the usual blank stare, and he gave a firm nod before disappearing into the guest room, giving Rin a view of his pert uncovered rear on the way out. Rin quickly snapped his gaze away, cursing under his breath. They were clearly going to have to set some ground rules.

* * *

Travel by Floo was becoming less of a chore, Rin was pleased to notice, with Haru content to just keep a firm grasp on the fabric of Rin’s robes instead of digging his claws into Rin’s arm when they stepped into the grate. On arriving in the Ministry’s Floo foyer, he quickly shooed Haru away and shuttled them both towards the waiting elevators, squeezing in alongside other late arrivals and buzzing for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

A witch whose facial features were all mixed up—eyes where her mouth should have been, ears adorning her forehead like horns, and ruby-red lips in the center of her face smiling coyly when Rin raked her over with a dubious look—stepped off along with Haru and Rin and abruptly turned down a side corridor headed by a placard that read “To the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad Headquarters”.

Haru watched her leave with undisguised horror, and Rin had to shake his shoulder to get him moving again. “Where…are you taking me?” he muttered, glancing around warily, and Rin didn’t bother to stifle the grin of amusement at Haru’s worry.

“Obliviator Headquarters—they’re in charge of memory modification and concealment, so I figure if anyone can determine just what’s happened to your memory, it’s them.”

“Obliviators?”

Rin nodded. “Whenever a witch or wizard uses magic in front of Muggles, or in the event Muggles stumble across something they’re not meant to, like a centaur herd or a Mer aggregation, it’s the Obliviators who swoop in to modify their memories and do the clean-up.”

“Did an Obliviator do this to me?”

Rin turned the possibility over in his mind. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility—but any Ministry member would have received basic instruction at school on how to modify a memory, so it doesn’t really narrow down out field of suspects. Plus, I feel like an Obliviator would have managed the charm with a lot more finesse, even on a creature the charm shouldn’t affect.” At the very least, an Obliviator would’ve covered their tracks better and not left such a gaping hole in Haru’s memory. This definitely felt like amateur work.

A young witch with horn-rimmed glasses sat at the reception desk, filing her nails to points—and her face instantly blossomed into a dazed smile as Rin drew close. She leaned forward, popping her Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum loudly, and drawled, “Can I help you?”

Rin forced a polite grin but kept his gaze directed elsewhere; feigning disinterest didn’t really help, but making eye contact tended to draw his victims in more strongly, so he tried to keep his Charm as low-key as possible. “Yeah—I’m Matsuoka, with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and I’m here to speak with an Obliviator. I believe my Department Head should’ve made the arrangements?”

The witch’s face fell, and she glanced about. “Most everyone’s out for lunch right now and won’t be back until after 2.” She then brightened, “Oh—but Obliviator Hazuki always takes his lunch in his office! I’m sure he could spare some time to speak to you gentlemen…?”

Rin groaned inwardly—of course it would be Hazuki, just Rin’s luck. He directed his gaze at the witch, lifting his brows plaintively. “You’re sure there’s no one else available? Hell, I’ll take an _intern_ if I have to…”

The witch flushed, babbling, “Oh—I wish there were! If you’d like, I can have someone run down to the lunch room and bring back our Department Head? I’ll even go myself and see to it personally that—”

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” Rin reassured quickly, smiling through a grimace. He hadn’t meant to turn up the Charm that fiercely, and it was almost painful watching the poor woman trip over herself trying to please him. “We’ll…see Obliviator Hazuki, if he’s free.”

“Of course!” she chirped, swiveling around in her chair and marching into the bullpen. “If you’ll just follow me?”

They traipsed along after her, and Haru leaned close, dropping his voice. “What’s wrong with Obliviator Hazuki?”

“Nothing in particular, he’s just…kind of a character.” He wrinkled his nose. “He can be a handful—likes to modify Muggle memories using a go-to excuse of ‘alien abduction’ that he thinks is hilarious. And he has this really annoying habit of calling me—”

“ _Rin-chan!!_ ” came a delighted squeal as Nagisa’s door burst open, nearly sending the receptionist flying as she leapt out of the way. “I thought I heard you!” Nagisa streaked out of his office in a whirlwind, grabbing a handful of Rin’s robes to tug him forward. The first time he’d ever met Nagisa, he’d wondered if he’d unconsciously turned his Charm up to 11—but after seeing him interact with others in his office, and even total strangers, Rin had concluded that no, this was pretty much Nagisa at his core, no Charm needed.

Nagisa noticed instantly that Rin wasn’t alone this visit, eyes going wide. “Ooh, a guest?” Haru froze in place like a bug under glass, worry that Nagisa would attack him as he’d done Rin written clearly on his features. “Not a Ministry member, though—a friend?”

“Witness.” He beckoned Haru closer with a jerk of his head. “Let’s talk inside.”

He made their introductions swiftly, and Nagisa gasped with delight at the revelation that Haru wasn’t quite as human as he seemed on first sight. “Can he Enthrall me? Can he? I want to see if I can fight it off!” He thrust out his chest. “I managed to resist the Imperius Curse for a whole five seconds back in school!”

Rin doubted this, leaping to Haru’s rescue with, “That’s really not a good idea—the Ministry only allows him to speak to me, and I don’t think they’d like it if they found out I’d been letting him go around exerting his Thrall as he pleased.” Nagisa puffed out his cheeks in disappointment, flopping back into his chair, and Rin changed the subject. “Can we maybe get to why we’re here?”

“All right…” Nagisa allowed, sighing, then crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s up?”

Rin pulled out the case file, passing it over the desk as he explained the details. Nagisa nodded along, brows drawing together as he perused the contents, and Rin breathed a mental sigh of relief that he seemed to be taking the case seriously. “You think you can give us some insight into what might have happened?”

Nagisa pursed his lips, slapping the file shut, and sidled around his desk with wand in hand. “It’ll probably be quicker if I just take a look myself. Mind if I peek inside, Haru-chan?”

“ _Haru-ch_ …” Haru breathed reflexively, choking on the moniker, and glanced nervously in Rin’s direction—he wasn’t meant to speak around others, but Rin wasn’t going to fault him for a slip of the tongue in private like this.

Instead, he reassured, “He does this kind of thing for a living—he won’t hurt you.”

After another uncertain glance towards Nagisa, Haru ducked a nod, though his shoulders remained tense as Nagisa slipped around behind him, muttering to himself as he evaluated the situation. “Okey-doke, let’s see what we have here…” He grabbed Haru’s chin to straighten his head with one hand as he brought his wand level with Haru’s temple.

An onlooker would be hard-pressed to tell what—if anything—was happening, and even Haru seemed unfazed by Nagisa’s probing, but after a few minutes of silent waiting, Nagisa drew back with a sigh and rubbed at his forehead, the concentration clearly having drained him. “I could use some butterbeer right about now…”

Rin stood, vacating his seat and motioning for Nagisa to take it instead, which he did with a soft, “Thanks, Rin-chan,” and Rin allowed him a moment to collect himself before pressing him for his diagnosis.

“So? Anything we can use?”

Nagisa frowned, picking at the weave of leather straps wound tight around his wand’s grip. “You’re right that his memory’s been tampered with—but it’s worse than I saw speculated in that report. We recalibrate poorly modified memories all the time.”

“On Muggles, though, right?” Nagisa nodded. “But he’s not human.”

“No, he’s not—so there’s that, along with the fact that the modification wasn’t just done poorly, the memory threads themselves are gone.”

Rin didn’t quite follow. “What does that mean?”

Nagisa rubbed at his eyes. “Umm, well you know how a Pensieve works, right? You withdraw a memory thread and place it in a bowl. All your memories are kind of swirling around in your mind as threads, like mental ramen noodles.” His stomach actually gurgled a bit here, and Nagisa flushed in embarrassment, quickly continuing his explanation to distract. “Sorry. Anyway, memory modification usually lets us replace a memory thread we don’t want floating around with one of our own construction—but since Sirens like Haru-chan here tend to reject foreign memories, you can’t really do that.”

“So…?”

“So whoever didn’t want him talking about what he saw did the only thing they could think of instead: just removed the thread without replacing it. It makes it obvious there’s been something done, so not exactly subtle, but the end result is the same: the memory isn’t there to implicate the perpetrator anymore.”

Rin closed his eyes and groaned softly; things just kept getting better and better with this case. “Perfect…just what I needed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So there’s no way for you to restore his memory? Like—demodify it or something?”

Nagisa shook his head. “Sorry—there’s nothing there _to_ demodify. But—” He brightened. “The good news is that the memory thread is out there somewhere still! After all, you can’t destroy a thought—they’re persistent things!”

Rin frowned—while that was somewhat promising, finding a single memory thread that could be _anywhere_ was going to be like looking for a needle in a grove of Spiky Prickly Plants. The thread was their sure shot to an easy conclusion to this case—but he could already hear the Director lecturing him that _if solving cases were easy, everyone would do it!_ On the other hand, that same Director was the one breathing down his neck to wrap up a rather hot-button case as quickly as possible, so who knew where he’d fall on this issue of missing memory threads.

Whatever the case, the threads weren’t here, so Nagisa wasn’t going to be able to help them out. He thanked the Obliviator for his time, grimaced through a bone-crushing hug, and shuttled Haru back out through the bullpen heading for the elevator. Recalling his earlier suggestion that they get Haru some robes of his own, he considered cutting out early and making their way to the 109¾, but the utter failure that had been their only lead had Rin feeling like the wind had just been sucked from his sails, so he angrily punched the button for the lobby and made for the Floo grates.

* * *

When they stepped into the lobby of Hasegawa Heights, Haru glanced around, realized where they were, and asked, “We’re done?”

Rin shrugged as he mounted the stairs. “Not like there’s anything else to do today. I’ll file a report with the Director tomorrow.” He waited for Haru to press about the shopping venture he’d been promised, but it didn’t come, and they scaled the flights of stairs to Rin’s floor in silence as Rin reviewed the case in his mind, running in circles.

If the memory thread was gone, then it was gone and that was that—Nagisa hadn’t known of any way to track the thread down, reminding that even visually, it’d look like anyone else’s threads and could be _anywhere_ , hiding in plain sight, so unless Rin happened to trip and fall into a pensive full of Siren thoughts, they couldn’t rely on that lead. Haru remained their only witness, though; Kasahara was dead and of no use, and the Muggle Repelling Charms around the area hadn’t been tripped, meaning they couldn’t rely on any first-hand accounts from wayward travelers either.

Sousuke had been meant to interrogate Kasahara’s entourage the afternoon before—but Rin hadn’t been around for him to deliver his report. Maybe he’d come across something Rin could work with? With this thought, he drew to a stop right in front of Sousuke’s door, ignoring the sour look Haru gave him and the way he clearly wanted to continue on to the next door down and barricade himself inside, away from Rin’s partner. “Relax,” Rin reassured as he knocked. “I’ll make it quick.”

Haru didn’t relax, but Rin’s attention was diverted when Sousuke pulled his door open with a grin. “Thought I smelled something fishy,” he quipped nodding toward Haru. “How’d your meeting with the Obliviators go?”

Rin shook his head. “Waste of time. Turns out there was nothing to recover—he doesn’t remember anything because whoever attacked Kasahara just ripped out the memory thread by the root, apparently.” He sighed. “Totally sapped my motivation; think I’m gonna see if I can dig out that bottle of bootleg firewhiskey we smuggled out of evidence.” They’d taken it as what they felt had been their just reward following a brutal three-month case working with the Department of International Magical Cooperation to bust a smuggling ring that had been transporting hard liquor across borders under the guise of Flobberworm mucus. The stuff had proven so pure that Rin wondered if he might have been safer drinking _actual_ Flobberworm mucus, but it was great for taking the edge off. He glanced back at Haru, musing softly, “I wonder how Sirens hold their drink…”

“Better than you, I’ll bet. Not that that’s difficult.” Rin took a swipe at him for the jibe, and Sousuke nimbly slipped out of the way, jerking his head inside. “Come watch the match; I wound up falling asleep halfway through last night and never caught the end, but the Phoenixes’ seeker blacked out trying a Wronski feint and crashed into a popcorn vendor. Hilarious shit.”

Rin snorted, “I’m convinced you’re not actually a Quidditch fan—you just watch to see the crashes.”

Sousuke shrugged. “Can you blame me?” He raised his brows. “Well? I’ve got _legitimately_ procured firewhiskey if that’s all that’s holding you back.”

Settling in to enjoy the match with Sousuke would certainly take his mind off of things—but he didn’t think he’d be very good company just now, and he could probably expect a Howler from the Director berating the both of them for not taking the case more seriously. Then again—he _had_ stopped by to hear the details of Sousuke’s investigation into the Councillor’s entourage, so wasn’t he thereby obligated to stay for a drink and at least the first half of the match?

He let his shoulders slump dramatically and waved. “Fine—you win. But we’re discussing the case while we’re at it,” he warned, and Sousuke rolled his eyes.

“All work and no play, RinRin.”

“ _Don’t_ call me that,” he ground out—but Sousuke had already turned on his heel to march back inside, instructing Rin to remove his boots at the door and make himself comfortable. He sighed around a soft curse, running fingers through his hair—then stiffened at a tug on his elbow, only just remembering he had company.

“…’RinRin’?” Haru parroted blandly, one brow raised.

“It’s a long story.” He jerked his head, gesturing for Haru to follow him inside. “C’mon; I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight, so I guess we can use this as an opportunity for you to learn about the Wizarding World of Sports.”

“Quidditch?”

A nod. “I never played myself, but Sousuke was a Beater back in school. He’s got the recent match-up between the Fukui Phoenixes and the Tokyo Tengu.” Rin had no idea if this was any sort of fated rivalry—but Sousuke had seemed excited about it, and that was all that mattered. “You’ll get some culture, it’ll be good for you.” He reached out to take Haru’s wrist and guide him inside, wondering if he’d actually fight being dragged over the threshold, but Haru took a step back like a spooked cat.

“I wanted to go swimming again.”

“We went swimming yesterday,” Rin reminded. “We were there until nearly closing.”

“I want to go again.”

Rin huffed in irritation—was this just a Siren thing, to be as obstinate as possible? Or pure, unadulterated Haru? There was no discounting the possibility it was a little of both. “We’re not going—and that’s that. You’re not gonna desiccate or anything going _one evening_ without water.” He drew out his wand, waving it in reminder. “Now, you can either come along quietly and enjoy watching guys faceplant on the pitch and slam into the bleachers, or I can lock you in the guest room and put an Imperturbable charm on it just in case, since I’m not technically meant to let you leave my side.” He donned a bright smile. “Your choice.”

Haru’s expression went dark—but after a moment’s consideration, he shoved huffily past Rin over the threshold and into Sousuke’s entryway, carrying a cloud over his head the whole way.

* * *

The match was enjoyable enough, but Sousuke's enthusiastic cheering was a bit off-putting, considering Rin wasn't really in the mood to celebrate at the moment. It was understandable, though; for Sousuke, this was just another case, the consequences of failing to solve the murder of a general dick of a man not all that intimidating. But the longer the investigation dragged on for Rin, the longer he'd be stuck with his rather dour, stubborn houseguest. Further souring the evening had been the fact that, after a few goals, Haru had actually seemed _interested_ in the match, his dark eyes following the figures flitting in and out of image like they'd sighted some tasty little prey animal.

In a few instances—mostly after moves that had made Sousuke leap to his feet and nearly spill his drink—Haru had even opened his mouth, clearly on the verge of speaking, and Rin had tensed. But he'd always abruptly closed it again, drawing his knees up to his chest and sitting back quietly to watch. Rin half considered flirting the rules—Sousuke was pumped full of Impersuasion infusion which, while it probably wouldn't render him immune to Enthrallment, should certainly give him an edge, and if he asked Sousuke not to blab to the Director that Haru had violated the Ministry's ban on extra-Aggregation speech by Sirens, surely he'd keep quiet about it. But at the same time, he didn't want to put Sousuke in that position, and given Sousuke's clear mistrust of Haru already, he probably wouldn't want to talk to the Siren even if he were allowed to. 

Sousuke Dispelled the playback with a wave of his wand. "That backbeat Tengu #7 executed was _beautiful_ though! He didn't even _glance_ at that bludger before _...wham_! _"_ Sousuke mimed the move himself, gaze going far away. "I could've gone pro easily if it weren't for my shoulder."

Rin rolled his eyes, having heard the tale far too many times to spare Sousuke much pity now—especially since Sousuke seemed to have moved on. "Uh huh. Teams would've been fighting tooth and nail for you. Matches _are_ still won by the team with the most fouls, right?" Sousuke slapped the meat of the thigh nearest to him sharply with his hawthorn wand, and Rin yelped, leaping to his feet. "Truth hurts, huh?"

Sousuke looked like he was ready to deliver a quip of his own in return—but then his eyes caught on Haru, sitting quietly in an upholstered chair in the corner just staring at the both of them with an unreadable expression. "...You really had to bring him over?"

Rin followed his gaze and sighed. "I've gotta stay with him—Director's orders, you know that." 

"He needs a chaperone 24-7? All Sasabe said was to keep an eye on him." He frowned at Haru. "...He creeps me out."

"Worried he'll Enthrall you and make you do unseemly things?" Rin leered, but Sousuke's frown was unmoved, so he simply patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm sure the feeling is mutual." He stretched his cramped limbs. "All right, we're heading back to my place n—oh." He'd nearly forgotten the very reason he'd stopped by. "The Councillor's entourage—did you interrogate them yet?"

"Oh yeah—I turned in a report to the Director earlier, but..." He shook his head. "Nothing much to go on. They said the Councillor received a raven from someone—they didn't know who—early in the evening and that he stepped out without his usual body-wizards, told them to stay in for the night."

A Councillor running off on a late-night errand, requesting privacy... "That suggests at least that he wasn't kidnapped, and that he knew the person he was meeting up with."

Sousuke nodded. "And he knew a hell of a lot of people." He cut Haru a glance. "And...less-than-people."

"Hey," Rin huffed sharply, narrowing his gaze to show Sousuke he wasn't kidding. He didn't know what the guy's problem with Haru was—if anyone had reason to complain about the Siren, it was Rin—but that didn't excuse uncouth remarks, especially in Rin's presence. "Easy."

"Sorry," Sousuke muttered, "Maybe I had one too many." He waved Rin off. "Run along, then. Before he starts to make the place smell like a fishmarket."

Rin didn't think that was a particularly adequate apology, especially with the quip at the end, but it was starting to get late, and he didn't care to argue with Sousuke when he probably would regret his words enough in the morning on his own. "...Sure, night," he offered, then motioned for Haru to follow him.

The evening had been a wash from start to finish, and he was realizing he should've stuck to his instincts and just gone straight home. Or else given in to Haru's demands and gone for a soak. As it was, he hadn't gotten nearly as drunk as he'd wanted to be by the time the match ended, hadn't yet figured out who he was meant to be rooting for, and had failed to glean any useful information from Sousuke along the way. In the _genkan_ , he toed on his boots, not bothering to lace them up since he was only going just next door, and shuffled from Sousuke's apartment and into his own.

Tama met them at the door as usual, his frantic mewling reminding Rin that he was late with both their dinners now. But as he struggled out of his boots, Haru gracefully slipped past, squatting down to scoop Tama into his arms and chittering at him softly in a language that sounded less like words and more like dolphin clicks as he made his way to the kitchen. "His food's in a jar by the—"

"I know," Haru reminded distractedly, and Rin shook his head to himself, going back to his unruly boots.

By the time he found his way into the kitchen, Haru had already topped off Tama's food bowl and slipped on the very apron he'd defiled that morning, puttering about in Rin's pantry.

"Self-steaming rice?" Haru frowned at the package in his hand. "Doesn't that ruin the flavor?"

"What flavor? It's rice." He snorted in soft amusement at the look of offended horror Haru fixed him with, then slipped into a chair at the table, crossing his arms before him to support his head as he watched Haru work. A few long silent moments passed—Tama busy with his dinner, Haru busy with _theirs_ —before Rin finally came out with it: "...I'm sorry. For tonight." Haru didn't turn, didn't respond in any measurable way, but his shoulders tensed a bit and his movements slowed as he waited for Rin to explain himself. "...I was a dick. It wasn't right of me to drag you over to Sousuke's knowing you'd have to sit there silently the whole evening. And Sousuke was his usual charming self, so...sorry for that, too."

It had been rude to indulge; he'd known it as soon as Sousuke had invited him. Hell, he was angry at Sousuke, too, since the guy _knew_ he'd have to drag Haru along and that this meant Haru would be under gag order the whole night. But Sousuke could be less than tactful when irritated, and Rin was supposed to be the understanding one in this case. He'd initially forced Haru to come out of spite, frustrated at the case going nowhere and Haru being Haru, but _he_ hadn't enjoyed himself and Haru _had_ , and nothing had gone like he'd wanted it to tonight.

There was a soft scrape of wood over wood as Haru dragged the chair across from him away from the table, slipping in. "...It was my first time seeing a Quidditch match."

"Yeah? What'd you think?"

Haru's expression went unreadable again, and Rin wondered if he wasn't recreating some of the plays in his mind just now. "...It was brutal, like you said. But I think I liked it."

Rin cracked a smile. "Did you, now? Want me to poke around and see if there are any intramural clubs in your area?" He doubted any professional teams would ever give a Siren a chance to play—if it wasn't outright banned under league rules already—but local teams might be more openminded. At the very least, he could probably find some enthusiasts willing to teach him the basics of handling a broom.

Haru's brows drew together, and he shook his head. "I...no. You shouldn't."

Shouldn't—because committing to flying lessons would be one toe in the door to the wizarding world, and Haru seemed perfectly content to go back to his little pond and little town and boring little life when this whole fiasco was over. Rin sighed to himself; it seemed such a shame, to have no ambition. If Haru had been genuinely _happy_ living as he had before this case had been dropped on their heads, that would be one thing—but everything Rin had seen so far suggested that Haru was getting his first taste of a world where he could be at least a _little_ closer to his true self and was finding himself enjoying it so much, his immediate response was to reject it before he grew too attached. Rin could understand it to some extent; it had taken him a while to learn to trust people, to accept that they weren't all greedy, covetous filth deep down and it was just the Charm twisting them. But he knew by now that it was worth a little risk to do something _fun_ , to enjoy himself and live a little.

He reflected back on the evening—on how Sousuke and Rin had sat sprawled on Sousuke's couch while Haru had been forced into a corner and warned to hold his tongue. He recalled those moments where Haru looked like he genuinely wanted to join their conversation, or to ask a question about the match, but had been quelled by a glance from Rin. _I was a dick_ didn't even begin to cover his actions that evening, and Rin swallowed, staring down at the grain of the table. "...I really am sorry. I was frustrated and just wanted a distraction, and I took it out on you, and that's not the kind of guy I want to be. It's not your fault I'm stuck with you, and you didn't deserve to be made to sit in a corner under gag order all night."

Another long, silent pause stretched between them, and Haru's voice was soft when he spoke again: "...It's fine. I'm used to not speaking. I've gotten along fine with Makoto all these years, so I've learned that I don't need to speak to communicate."

Haru's ability to communicate without speaking or how 'used' he was to it did nothing to ameliorate the situation or absolve Rin of blame, though, and Rin opened his mouth to remind Haru of this—before his mind caught on what Haru had just said. "...Wait, that's the second time you've mentioned that name." He leaned closer over the table, cocking his head curiously. " _Who_ is Makoto, again?"


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, the ‘Makoto’ character Haru kept bringing up was a childhood friend still living and working in his (and Haru’s) hometown, so Rin filed for leave with the Director to do a bit of digging around among the Muggle populace. Small-town types tended to be suspicious of strangers, so if any Wizarding folk had been poking around Haru’s pond in the days and weeks leading up to his framing, perhaps the Muggles would be able to provide some sort of description, or at least have their memories plied.

And they would start with Makoto. 

This necessarily meant a bit of a trip, though, and the nearest Floo hub was a good several hours’ walk from the town they were bound for, which left them with little choice but to Apparate. 

Haru’s expression had gone very sour when Rin had explained this, and Rin couldn’t really blame him. Apparation was something that took a bit of getting used to, but _side-along_ Apparation never really got any easier on the digestive system, no matter how many times you did it. It spoke to Haru’s desperation when he feebly asked if they couldn’t just travel by broomstick. “People were flying around on them during that game last night; are they not a legitimate mode of transportation?”

“They are,” Rin allowed, “But mostly by those who can’t Apparate for one reason or another. Plus they’re slow—the brooms you saw in the match are racing brooms, not long-distance travelers.” He shook his head. “Not to mention you’ve never ridden before, and I wouldn’t want to lose you over Mt. Fuji.” Haru paled at this, going a bit green around the gills, and Rin offered his arm. “I’m afraid it’s Apparation or nothing.”

And “nothing” wasn’t an option, so Haru had accepted his arm, clenched his eyes shut, and held his breath before being jerked along ley lines at Rin’s command. They popped up near Haru’s pond, these being the nearest ley coordinates Rin recalled, and Haru staggered a bit on arrival, shoving away from Rin. He might have taken offense—they’d been getting along reasonably well, Rin thought—had Haru not doubled over, hands on his knees, and started heaving as if he might vomit. 

Nothing came up, though—they’d both neglected breakfast that morning—and after a moment, Haru had collected himself and begun to wander the perimeter of his little patch of land. Rin watched him warily; the pond was undisturbed, and the Muggle-repelling wards had been safely secured and reinforced to detect magical intrusion as well now. A flash of disappointment raced over Haru’s features, though, and Rin followed his eyeline to the little kitchen garden, which was beginning to be taken over by weeds and was in sore want of pruning. A little reel mower and garden tools tucked inside a makeshift shed showed clearly how Haru had taken care of his property, and in his short absence, nature was beginning to creep back in. 

“…My tomatoes need picking.”

“Tomatoes?” 

Haru pointed a finger toward the garden. “Several are ripe now. Another night, and they’ll be wasted.” His frown was one not of frustration but tinged with a note of despair, which Rin could sympathize with; Haru could see his garden, but ministry regulations meant none could touch it until the investigation had been concluded. They were so close, and yet so far away. 

“You should consider growing some magical plants.” He gestured toward the garden. “Most housewitches make sure to stock their kitchen gardens with a few of the more indispensable herbs—dittany, star grass, a bit of rue maybe. And I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that most Mer aggregations like to grow their own stocks of fluxweed, so maybe you should consider that.” He turned to Haru, brows raised hopefully. “There’s no law that says you’re not allowed to grow naturally magical plants, so why not? They’re hardier than everything you’ve got planted here, anyway.”

Haru’s expression failed to clear, though, and Rin gave up with a shrug. They were only plants, and Haru could weed his garden as much as he liked when they closed this case. For now, Rin had a two-fold problem: to observe the local populace and see if any might have noticed anything strange in the last week or so, and to look into this Makoto guy to determine if he knew more than he ought to. The International Statute of Secrecy had been enacted for a reason, and just because Haru didn’t associate closely with the Wizarding community didn’t mean he was allowed to just go blabbing about who—about _what_ —he was to anyone he pleased. 

“So where does he live? Tachibana, was it?”

Rin’s question at last drew Haru’s attention from the sad state of his garden, and he nodded. “Closer to town; he’s on the local fire team.”

Rin’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Fire…team?”

“He’s a firefighter.” Rin still didn’t quite follow, until Haru explained, “If a fire broke out, or there was an issue with a gas valve or anything like that—it would take at least a half hour for the nearest fire station to service the people who live here. Makoto and a few others are the on-call firefighters.”

“Ah,” Rin nodded; he supposed that would be a necessity when you couldn’t just wave a wand with an _Aguamenti_ charm and douse a fire. “It’s not a large town, though—that’s all he does?”

“He helps other nearby units, but this is his home base.” He started marching down a dirt road, beckoning Rin to follow. “It’s a half-hour walk into town. Come on.”

Rin grudgingly fell into step behind him, wishing he’d researched ley coordinates nearer to the town’s center so they might avoid the hassle. Maybe he’d see if anyone around here had a fireplace he could temporarily hook up to the Floo network, just in case they needed to pop back down in the coming weeks. 

“So why do you live all the way out here?” he prodded, looking for something to fill the awkward silence, and when Haru gave him a confused look, he clarified, “I mean, most Merfolk live in Aggregates—usually along the coast or in international waters, though you’re not the only freshwater Siren I’ve come across; there’s a reasonably large populace in Lake Biwa, after all.”

Haru regarded him for a moment, then faced forward again, expression neutral. “My granddam used to live here.”

“Granddam?” Rin hadn’t bothered to look into the history of the location, so this was the first he’d heard of any other Sirens living in this particular unplottable patch of land. “Okay, why did _she_ live out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Haru just shrugged. “Don’t know.”

A few days ago, Rin would’ve thought he was being evasive; now he knew Haru was just being Haru and truly _didn’t_ know, because he didn’t care. He tried a different tack to keep the conversation going. “And you never felt like moving back out to the coast, or even to a freshwater Aggregation like the Biwa Sirens?”

“Too much work.”

“But—isn’t this pond _tiny_?” He glanced over his shoulder at Haru’s home, frowning. “Maybe you could see about fitting it with an extension charm?”

Haru’s eyes widened a hair. “You can do that?” He was probably recalling the deep, quiet pools at Sakegahara’s. 

“Well— _I_ can’t, and on second thought, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to place that kind of charm on a natural pond. No idea how it might screw up the local ecosystem.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Do you keep it stocked?”

“Stocked? You mean with fish?” A nod. “Only fry and minnows, mostly. I feed myself from local stores. I couldn’t survive long on the population of meal-sized fish a pond this small could support.”

“Then I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look into—if you’re interested.” He watched Haru out of the corner of his eye, testing him; Haru had shied away from contact with the Wizarding community most of his life, it seemed, only making contact when required, but the past few days had shown him everything he was missing now, and Rin was making it his personal mission to draw Haru from hiding and encourage him to actually get out and interact with others. So what if he couldn’t _talk_ to anyone? Rin could never be entirely sure people were friends with him because they genuinely liked him or because they felt compelled to cozy up to him; that didn’t stop him from trying to make friends all the same. You learned to deal with these kinds of things.

Haru seemed to consider the suggestion for a moment, and just when Rin despaired that he’d deem the charm placement too much effort, he finally allowed, “…It would be nice to be able to stretch my fins a bit more…”

Rin danced a mental jig, biting back a grin of victory, and looped an arm around Haru’s neck to drag him closer. “Excellent! Now, I heard there’s a dockside bar near Osaka Bay run by an Encantado that caters to creatures of Influence. Since you never get to speak to anyone, I’m going to assume you’re shit at asking someone out—let’s fix that.”

* * *

Tachibana’s home was unimpressive—one story, a well-kept little front yard bordered by a low fence, muddy boots sitting at the bottom of the stoop, and a muted paint job that did little to differentiate it from the cookie-cutter homes flanking it on either side, all cast from the same mold it seemed. And all exceedingly Muggle. 

Haru must have noticed the little curl of disgust his lip was executing, for he jabbed Rin in the ribs with an elbow and warned, “Be nice; he’s very sweet-natured.”

“Ah. Code for ‘door mat’.” Haru cut him a sharp glare but kept silent—then reached forward to lean on the buzzer beside the front gate. Rin frowned—surely Haru wasn’t planning on announcing himself, right? He hadn’t felt the need to outline when Haru was and wasn’t allowed to speak, since Haru had been so reluctant at their first meeting to use his voice even around Rin, but perhaps a few days of free conversing had his knowledge slipping? He opened his mouth—about to remind Haru that he wasn’t allowed to speak to Muggles—when the buzzer crackled to life.

_”Yes?”_

Haru’s expression went a bit fond, softer around the edges than Rin had ever seen it, and he tapped on the box several times in quick succession.

 _”Ah! Haru-chan??”_ The fond expression quickly dissipated into one of mild annoyance, and Rin stifled a derisive snort. _”Just a sec, I’ll be right out!”_

Haru straightened again, fixing Rin with a raised brow as if to say _See?_

The front door clattered open, and a figure all broad shoulders and muscled limbs beckoned them forward. “You brought a guest? I’ll make tea!” 

Haru ducked a silent nod, pushing the creaky little gate open, then jerked his head for Rin to follow as Tachibana retreated back inside. After removing their footwear in the genkan, Haru padded through the main hallway with a confidence that said he’d been here many times before, and Rin awkwardly shadowed him, keeping a wary eye out for traps. 

He didn’t like Muggle homes. At least with Wizarding homes, you could feel the magic permeating the air, a miasma of charms and spells that blanketed everything in familiarity and warmth. With Muggles, though, everything just felt cold and dead and devoid of life. Haru brought them to the living room, motioning to a small sofa hemmed against a wall by a low coffee table, and Rin flopped down dramatically.

The decoration was sparse, but the space was clean and lacked the disarray that many young men their age—Wizard and Muggle alike—seemed plagued with. On a sideboard sat a few picture frames, which Rin realized must be friends and family. A group picture he deduced to be Tachibana’s family—an older man and woman, and Tachibana himself flanked by a pair of younger siblings. There was even a picture of Tachibana and Haru from what looked like several years back. He took the frame in hand, giving it a shake when the subjects remained stationary. “It doesn’t even move? Boring.”

“Put that down,” Haru chided huffily. “And remember what I said.”

“Yeah yeah,” Rin muttered as Tachibana shuffled into the parlor carrying a tray of drinks and a pitcher of what looked like barley tea. “Door mat, I got it.”

Tachibana was the perfect host, though, serving his guests first and flashing them placating smiles, and by the time they’d finally settled in and been served, Rin was almost regretting what he was going to have to do. Tachibana was everything Haru had warned Rin he would be: generous, unsuspecting, and polite.

“So—how do you know Haru, umm…?”

“Matsuoka,” Rin supplied. “I’m…an investigator. He’s helping with a case I’m involved in.”

Tachibana nodded, taking a sip of his tea, then flicked Rin an unsure glance. “Does that…I mean, is it because of, umm…because Haru’s a…what’s the word you use?” He directed his question to Haru here, scratching the side of his face nervously. “Siren?”

Rin stiffened, stomach twisting, and his words came out sharp. “That’s none of your concern.” He then turned a warning glance on Haru—but Haru kept his gaze studiously off to the side, feigning disinterest.

Tachibana leapt to his aid, though, placating, “Oh—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I don’t want Haru to get in trouble, if it’s meant to be a secret? But we’ve been friends ever since we were little kids, and…it just came out. He didn’t really tell me, if that’s what you’re thinking. It just happened—and it was years ago, and I swear I haven’t told anyone. I would never do that.” His words came a bit more quickly toward the end of his speech, desperation urging him on as it dawned that he might have just gotten his friend in a lot of trouble—and truthfully, he probably had, depending on how Rin played this.

It would have been a minor infraction for Haru’s identity to get out, likely with no penalty—especially if he’d been underage when it had happened. Kids spilled secrets—Rin couldn’t count the number of times he’d nearly been run down by a pack of Obliviators racing from the Ministry to rearrange the memories of Muggles who’d fallen victim to helpless underage Wizards who couldn’t control their powers. But Haru—or perhaps Haru’s parents—had failed to report the matter to the local authorities, violating the International Statute of Secrecy. Possibly on multiple counts, depending on how _much_ this Muggle knew.

“He’s my very best friend, Matsuoka-san. I would never do anything that might hurt him,” Tachibana pressed when Rin didn’t immediately respond to his entreaties, and Rin thinned his lips. Best to get this over with and then consider whether or not he needed to call in an Obliviator. He could have probably performed a basic memory modification himself—but if this had been going on for years, they’d need a professional to handle that level of charm, or the poor man might come out of it not even remembering his own name.

He cleared his throat and straightened up. “Yes—well, that…is part of the reason we’re working with him.”

Tachibana blinked stupidly, clearly not having expected such a bland response, and then a relieved smile spread over his features. “Yeah, I figured. When I heard Haru got spirited away a few days ago, I got a little worried—but he’s had to go off the grid now and then over the years because of…umm, well, I guess stuff involving what he is? So I’m used to covering for him.” He flicked a glance over to Haru and received a grateful nod in return, which seemed to settle the tension tightening Tachibana’s shoulders. He took a breath. “So—what brings you here, then? Just visiting? Or…?”

Haru had been right; this guy was entirely too nice for his own good, and lingering here sipping tea with Haru’s childhood friend was not getting them any closer to a resolution. They’d chit-chatted long enough, Rin decided; it was time to get down to business. He shifted closer, sitting on the edge of the little couch, and inhaled deeply, eyes closed. He had to center himself, for things like this; it required a measure of delicacy.

No one in the Ministry had ever thought it a good idea to hire someone with Influential blood in their veins for a field position—it had the potential to be far too ethically gray for anyone’s comfort, too much potential for abuse. Veritaserum use came with so much paperwork it took five ravens to petition a vial for interrogation, a legal maze that was meant to ensure there was good, lawful reason for its application—but who was to stop someone from using natural Charm to induce a suspect to speak? Was it any less ethical than a Witch undoing a few blouse buttons or wearing robes a few sizes too small to snag a collar? 

Unfortunately, none had yet come to any conclusive decision on the subject—which was why Rin was here, in the middle of nowhere, sipping barley tea with a Muggle firefighter and about to use what Sousuke liked to call his ‘invaluable services’ to smooth along this conversation.

He exhaled slowly, letting his lids flutter open and taking care to lock his gaze with Tachibana, ensuring he had the man’s full attention. He seemed like a nice guy, if a little too trusting; most Muggles expressed either a generous measure of skepticism or kept wary wits about them when faced with Wizarding folk, but Tachibana just seemed to take Haru’s identity in stride, covering for him when necessary and giving him free rein to wander about his home. Sure, Rin had pretty much done the same—but Rin had been immersed in the Wizarding world since birth, had trained his ass off at Mahoudokoro and doubled down on starting at the Ministry. He’d worked with dark creatures that could rend him limb from limb and could have Haru sliced and diced into little plates of sushi with a muttered phrase if he felt the slightest bit threatened. He _knew_ what he was allowing into his life.

Plus, Haru couldn’t Enthrall Rin and was therefore next to no threat; Tachibana, on the other hand, would merrily slit his own throat on Haru’s command. 

Tachibana was nice; but he was also clearly very, very naive. 

He reached across the table, brushing fingers lightly over the back of Tachibana’s hand; contact helped too, he’d learned, and he suppressed a superior little snort when Tachibana’s gaze went a bit glassy, his smile more loopy than fond now.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions—if that’s all right, Tachibana-san.”

“Sure thing, whatever you need,” Tachibana agreed easily, grin widening, and Rin felt Haru stiffen with suspicion beside him.

“Great; you’ve been a lovely host, we really appreciate it.”

“Not at all; I’m always happy to help out Haru…and friends of Haru…” Tachibana shifted so that Rin’s palm covered the knuckles of his hand, increasing the skin contact, and Rin fought the urge to rein in his Charm like he usually did, pumping it out at full blast.

He brushed a thumb lightly over Tachibana’s knuckles, tracing the bones and prominent veins lacing the back of his hand. “So, Tachibana-san—”

Tachibana licked his lips, swallowing. “Please, call me Makoto.”

“Makoto, then.” Rin dropped his tone, voice going a bit soft and throaty. “Tell me everything you know about Nanase Haruka.”

Haru instantly had a hand out, bracing his palm against Rin’s shoulder in protest of the questioning, and he shook it off with minor annoyance. For his part, Tachibana—or Makoto, he supposed—didn’t seem to notice the interruption at all. “We met when we were kids—he always sat out swim class, and I got excused from participation because of an accident I had in first grade…” A dark cloud passed over his features, but quickly dissipated. “He’s really nice—always kept me company, always defended me, always—”

“Defended you? Defended you how?” Rin frowned. “Makoto—has Haru ever spoken around you?”

“Spoken?” He seemed to consider the question for a moment, then shook his head—and Rin laid his other hand on top of the one already stroking Makoto’s knuckles, strengthening the connection to inspire Makoto to be as truthful as possible in order to please him. “Of course not; he’s not allowed. But he doesn’t need to; Haru-chan’s easy to understand, if you try.” 

“Sure…” Rin allowed mildly; he’d never met someone who was _more_ of a puzzle, himself, but he decided to leave Makoto to his delusions. Makoto could lie to Rin, even now, if he truly wanted to—but Rin sensed he was telling the truth, as bald-faced and open as it was possible to be. Time to press harder. “And has he ever spoken to anyone else that you know of?”

“To anyone else?” A frown. “Well, no—like I said, he’s not allowed—”

“Not even to his own kind?”

“His own kind? You mean like his parents?” The frown deepened and his brows furrowed—and Rin could feel Makoto’s desire to defend his friend warring against the foreign attraction he was feeling for Rin just now. 

Rin slipped his grip around to Makoto’s wrist, stroking the sensitive patch of skin there and massaging the muscle as he laced their fingers together. “I mean, Makoto… Has Haru ever done something…you know he’s not allowed to do?”

“I…I don’t know what…” Makoto faltered, and this seemed to be the final straw—for Haru snapped a hand out to grab the meat of Rin’s arm this time, sharp-tipped nails digging into muscle and nearly drawing blood as he forced Rin to relinquish his hold in Makoto with a hissed curse.

“Dammit, Haru!” he snapped in irritation, severing the hold he had over Makoto, but Haru was already on his feet, jerking Rin along after him. Makoto rose in protest, Haru’s name just on his lips, but Haru waved at him to sit down, and like a dog, Makoto obeyed promptly. Without eye contact and skin-on-skin, Rin’s Charm wasn’t quite strong enough to induce someone to follow him without prompting, so Haru’s silent instructions held more weight for the time being than any Veela allure.

Rin let himself be dragged from the room into a tiny kitchen, but he shrugged off Haru’s grip once the door had been shut behind them, grousing, “Fuck, you nearly ripped my arm off—I’m not a tuna you’re hauling onto shore, here. I think I’m out of wound-cleaning potion, too…” He massaged his arm dramatically, hissing in feigned pain—

—and then in real pain, as Haru shoved him back against a large, humming appliance. He winced as a handle dug into his back but held his tongue when Haru’s blue eyes flashed bright in anger and his pupils contracted to slits. “What the hell do you think you’re doing to Makoto?”

“Wha…Makoto?” Rin blinked in confusion. That’s what this was about? “Uh, interrogating him? You said he’s your best friend—if it’s too uncomfortable for you to be present while I question him, you’re welcome to—”

“That wasn’t— _interrogation_. You were…” He waved vaguely, failing to find the words to express himself properly. He huffed, taking a step back. “You—were looking at him. And…and _touching_ him.”

Rin shifted to the side a pace so that the appliance’s handle wasn’t stabbing him in the back anymore and straightened his robes. “Of course I was. Unless I concentrate, the best my Charm’s going to do at rest is get people to pay a bit more attention to me. It’s annoying when I want to keep a low profile, and seems to encourage everyone to go out of their way to engage me in conversation when all I really want to do is head home at the end of a long day—but if I want to actually use it in an interrogation, then I need to do things like that. Make eye contact; touch them.”

Haru’s brows furrowed. “You…were doing that _on purpose_? Using your…your—”

“Charm?”

“Using it on Makoto?” The confusion fled his features, replaced by venomous anger, and he stepped in close, voice low and soft with threat. “…If you want to interrogate him, you’ll do it properly. Honorably. I won’t let you manipulate him like that. He’s a good person. He’s my friend. I won’t _let you_.”

Rin felt energy surge through him, adrenaline flooding his system in preparation for a fight he would never let happen. He replied with forced calm, “…This is my investigation; I’m doing my _job_. This is sanctioned use of Influence—”

“Just because you _can_ use it doesn’t mean you _should_ ,” Haru bit out, then took a step back to let Rin breathe again. “…Just ask him what you want to know. He’ll answer any question he can.” For good measure, he repeated again, “He’s a good person.”

“I’m sure he is; but he might lie or twist the truth if it meant protecting you. You’re his friend, after all.” Rin couldn’t be entirely sure he wouldn’t bend a rule or three if it was Sousuke’s ass on the line, and he was sure Sousuke would do the same for him, loyal to a fault and then some. “Now, like I said, if you’re uncomfortable being present for the interrogation, then you’re welcome to wait—”

“I’m not uncomfortable, because you’re not going to do that again.” He squared his jaw firmly, locking eyes with Rin—and he felt an unsettling shudder ripple down his spine, set against a dull buzzing in his ears, unrecognizable and yet somehow _familiar_. 

He swallowed thickly—Haru was trying to Enthrall him. It wouldn’t work, of course—and Haru knew that, which meant it was probably unconscious, and if Rin didn’t de-escalate the situation, Haru might do something drastic, lash out in a way that would force Rin to take action. And since he was starting to get used to Haru’s cooking, he really didn’t want to have to slap a Silencing charm on the guy and throw him into a cell at Ministry headquarters. 

He brought his hands up, bracing them against Haru’s shoulders, and gave him a gentle shake. “Hey—stop that. You know you can’t be doing that.”

Haru’s frown was unmoved, but he blinked a few times, gaze flicking about wildly in confusion, and he released a sharp breath as the realization of what he’d been trying to do sank in. “I’m—sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Rin released him, hands up in an innocent gesture. “I know, I know. Relax. You’re kind of wigging out, though, and Makoto’s in the other room. You can’t do anything to me, so I’m inclined to let your little…episode…slide, but if you walk back in there and you aren’t in control of yourself 150%…” He let the threat hang; they had an accord, an understanding of sorts, but Rin had his duties, and perhaps now more than ever he couldn’t be seen showing favoritism to another non-human. He had to be firm—but Haru was starting to go pale and he looked a bit sickly. “…You okay?”

Haru swallowed thickly, glancing around like he was hoping there might be a chair to slide into, and he nodded weakly. “…I’m sorry…”

“Yeah, you said that like three times already. I said it’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, technically. Under Department bylaws, he was obligated to report _any_ incident of Influence usage: his own, use against himself, use against other Wizards, use against Muggles. There’d be a review, a hearing if necessary, consequences of some sort or another—just as if someone had conducted an unsanctioned Veritaserum investigation. But that was a lot of paperwork, and no one had been hurt, and out here in the wild, Haru might bolt if he felt threatened. It would be best to play it easy for now and sort everything out again once they got back to Tokyo. “Come on; I still need to finish questioning your friend.”

Haru eyed him warily, a bit of color coming back to his cheeks now. “…Just questioning?”

“Just questioning. I’ll try to tone my Charm down as best I can.” He couldn’t switch it off entirely, unfortunately, but he’d learned how to avoid attracting more attention than was strictly necessary. It helped having Sousuke around to give the stink eye to anyone who so much as thought about approaching him during missions, but he didn’t have the luxury of a partner built like a troll today, so he’d have to play it coy.

Makoto was still waiting patiently for them when they returned, and it spoke to the lingering effects of Rin’s Charm that he didn’t even ask where they’d disappeared to or why, merely thrilled that Rin was here again. “Welcome back!” he chirped, straightening in place and eyes tracking Rin hungrily the moment he stepped into the room.

Rin nodded silently in return, but kept his eyes averted, sinking back down onto the sofa and crossing his arms over his chest to close himself off. He fixed his gaze out the window, clearing his throat. “Sorry for the interruption; I’d like to continue with my questions, if I can. You said you’ve never noticed Haru speaking to anyone?”

“No, never.”

“Not even his parents? Never happened to overhear anything, even accidentally?” He let his gaze drift back to the photographs of Makoto’s family. “You’re not in trouble—and he isn’t either. But we do need to know. Young…boys like Haru often have accidents; they don’t always understand the rules, and rarely are they held accountable for their actions. Even less so if it happened years ago.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he made out Makoto shrugging. “I’d like to help, and if I recalled anything like that, I’d be inclined to share it—but honestly, I’ve never heard him speak.”

The way he phrased it caused Rin’s head to whip around, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait—never heard… You mean you don’t even know what his voice _sounds_ like?”

Makoto shook his head in a _what can you do?_ gesture—before picking up on Rin’s implication. “You—you _have_ heard him speak then?” His tone brightened with excitement. “I’ve always wondered what he sounds like, or if he even _could_ speak!” He shifted forward, on the literal edge of his seat now. “How does he sound? Is it nice? I read in stories that mermaids have beautiful voices, so I always wondered!”

Beside them both, Haru stiffened in annoyance, and Rin knew he’d be complaining if he were allowed to speak—but he wasn’t, so Rin enjoyed a bit of free rein. “It’s okay, I guess. But even the nicest voice is bound to sound like nails on a chalkboard when all it does is bitch and complain.”

Makoto snorted, covering his mouth. “That’s Haru! He always gets this expression on his face when he doesn’t want to do something—” He screwed up his features into what Rin felt was a very good impression of Haru when Rin had complained that morning that he’d wanted an omelet and not mackerel again—the argument resulted in neither of them having time to eat anything.

“Yes, that!” Rin was thrilled to have finally found a kindred spirit. This guy _got_ what it was like to deal with Haru. “Like it’s such a chore when all you want is a little variety in the menu!”

“It’s best to just give in; even if you win the battle, you’ll never win the war with Ha—” Makoto cut himself off, brows crinkling curiously. “Wait—how exactly do you know Haru again…?”

“Ah…” Rin’s mind went blank; he hadn’t meant to be so open about the situation, especially with a Muggle. “I’m uh…”

“Are you like his parole officer?”

Rin had no clue what a parole officer was, but it sounded like some sort of law enforcement agent. “Something like that, sure.”

Makoto nodded his understanding, then frowned. “Wait—is he… _living_ with you?” Rin’s breath caught in his throat—a safe house wasn’t very safe if everyone knew where the witness was hiding, and while Haru wasn’t terribly high profile and Makoto was probably trustworthy, he was still a loose end Rin couldn’t afford to have to deal with. Makoto didn’t seem to need a response, though, cutting Haru a knowing look with, “Are you being sure to wear pants?”

Haru did a fabulous rendition of the sour expression Makoto had donned moments before when imitating him, crossing his arms and flipping him a rude gesture.

Makoto ignored him, though, turning back to Rin in apology. “Please don’t think too poorly of him; he can be kind of a tough houseguest, even on his best days.”

You could say that again. He regarded the two of them warily. “This…the pants thing…he does that a lot?”

“He does! Used to give my mom no end of grief when he stayed over—though she let it slide until the twins got old enough that they started asking why Haru-chan got to run around naked all the time when they had to wear clothes.” He turned that bland, fond smile on Haru again. “It’s impossible to tell him what to do.” He frowned, then. “But really! Pants, Haru-chan. You’re making life difficult for Matsuoka-san.”

Haru shrugged, as if this was the least of his concern, and Rin brought the conversation back around to their history. “You mentioned Haru sleeping over at your place a lot—did…was he very involved in the community?”

“Involved?”

“I mean, did everyone know him?”

“It’s a small town, Matsuoka-san.”

“Yeah, I know—”

Makoto shook his head. “No one else knew about him, if that’s what you mean. They thought his family was a bit strange, and people…liked to talk, but other than that…”

“Talk? About what?”

Makoto shrugged. “Well—how no one knew where he came from or what sorts of people his family were? I think I only met his mom once or twice, and Haru-chan always came over to my place, never the other way around.” He frowned, as if only now recalling something from the distant past. “Even the few times I wandered down the path he usually took into town, thinking I’d just meet him at his place so we could hang out, I always just wound up back where I started…”

Rin let him ponder the mystery, chewing over Makoto’s idle comments. A small town, where most everyone knew Haru, but no one really _knew_ him. These were all Muggles—every last one of them. Unless someone had a secret of their own—there might be Squibs settled here, after all; he’d have to look into things to be sure—how could any of these townsfolk be involved in the murder of someone they’d never heard of, in a place they would never be able to find?

Realizing he’d drained Makoto of any relevant information he might be able to give, Rin ran a hand through his hair, sighing, “…All right, I guess that’s enough for now. I’ve heard all I needed to.”

As he stood, Makoto eagerly followed him up. “You’re sure there’s nothing else I can help you with? Refresh your cup of tea?”

“Much as I’d love to hang around and get more dirt on Haru—we need to get back.”

“Oh…” Makoto’s face fell. “Well—you should at least stop by the cafe before you leave.” He turned to Haru, shaking a finger. “Suzu-san was worried sick about you when you didn’t show up for your shift on Monday. I covered for you, but you should at least explain to her properly if you’re going to be absent for a while.”

“Suzu-san?” He glanced back at Haru. “Your boss?” Haru nodded, and Rin felt a headache starting to form. Just what they needed, more Muggles to deal with—and going out in public like this was only leading a trail for others to follow. He considered declining the offer, but Haru’s expression stayed him; he looked almost contrite, like he regretted causing this Suzu person to worry. So, he _did_ have a heart. “…All right,” he relented, warning, “But just long enough for you to explain—then we’re heading back. The Director only gave us leave today if I promised to drop in before close of business with a report.” He started for the door—but found his way blocked by Makoto.

“You’re going looking like that?” 

“Huh?” Rin was distracted by Makoto’s question, and he glanced down at his robes in reflex. “What’s wrong with my robes?”

“Nothing, you look amazing!” Makoto blurted out, grin gone goofy. “But—you’ll stick out, you know? No one dresses like that around here.” He took a moment to give Rin another good glance-over, swallowing thickly. “I…I could loan you something? If you like…?”

And Rin could hear in his tone that they’d just about overstayed their welcome; maybe it was the close quarters, maybe it was the topic of conversation, or maybe it was the fact that Rin wasn’t entirely unattracted to Makoto’s broad chest and fit arms and the way he smelled just a tiny bit like wood smoke (he’d spent enough time around Dragon handlers to develop a very keen attraction to the combination of muscle, leather, and fire), but he was starting to lose control of the situation. The only way to ensure Makoto retained a clear head and didn’t try something drastic was to put a bit of space between the two of them, and quickly. “…Sure, yeah. That’d be great, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Makoto gave a bright nod and then darted from the room, tearing down the hallway presumably for his bedroom.

Haru was on his feet in an instant, hands tightened into fists at his side. “You’re doing it again!” he hissed in accusation

He didn’t need to ask what ‘it’ was. “I’m _not_ —I swear!” Rin groaned, slumping back down to the couch and covering his face. “That one was an accident!”

“Accident?” Haru frowned.

“Yeah.” Rin gestured in the direction Makoto had disappeared, dropping his voice. “I can’t…you know, _always_ control it. That’s half the problem. It’s a natural response.”

“Response to what?”

“To…you know.”

“I don’t,” Haru maintained, crossing his arms over his chest, and his features softened from irritation to cautious confusion.

Rin rolled his eyes. “Don’t play coy—it’s when I… Oh. Right. You’re not up on your magical creature lore.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” The edge was back in his tone, and Rin really didn’t want to go another 50 laps around the Quidditch pitch with Haru today. “You said you were just going to question him.”

“And I did—or weren’t you listening?”

“That—you were talking to him. About me.”

“And that’s not questioning him?”

“Not the way _you_ were doing it.” His cheeks were still a bit flushed, and Rin wondered if he’d actually been _embarrassed_ by Rin’s and Makoto’s conversation. That would certainly be a new side to Haru. 

He sighed dramatically, letting his head flop back against the sofa. “Creatures of Influence tend to use their abilities for…one of two reasons.” He ticked off the items on his fingers, “When they want to eat their victim—like how Sirens nowadays have been convinced to subsist on local fish populations, but they weren’t too kind to passing sailors back in the day. Or…” He shrugged. “You know. When they’re into someone.”

“Into…” Haru repeated blankly—before Rin’s meaning sank in, and offended shock flashed across his features. “You’re _attracted_ to—”

“Shh!” Rin hissed, glancing worriedly at the hallway. “Geez; it was just a momentary lapse of judgment. I’m not gonna ask to send him a raven sometime or anything.” He shrugged. “But pickings are kinda slim lately, not that it’s any of your business, and you were right—he _is_ a nice guy.” And because he could, he added with a leer, “Plus I wouldn’t mind hearing more of these stories he seems to have about you.”

“Sorry for the wait!” Makoto called from the hall, swanning back in before Haru could bite out a retort, and the draped several articles of clothing over the back of the chair. “I brought a few outfits for you to pick through. You can just send them back through Haru when your investigation or whatever is over.”

Rin stepped forward to pick over the clothes, wondering how on earth he was going to work out all of the buttons and zips and holes. The Ministry made all of its employees take a three-day Muggle infiltration refresher course every year, but Rin had managed to play sick the past two years and rarely had reason to wear anything more constricting or covering than a pair of boxers. 

He glanced over at Haru, wondering if he could convince him to accompany Rin to the bathroom to explain what went where, but the expression of triumph he was met with changed his mind. The asshole probably thought this was just reward for making Haru wear pants. He grabbed an armful confidently, sweeping out of the room as Makoto called out, “It’s the third door on the left!”

* * *

By the time he’d finished changing, Rin was no longer attracted to Makoto. Not in the least. 

“I…I think the fit is a little…” Makoto started weakly, trying to stifle a giggle as he tugged at the drooping cuff of a sleeve and the sagging pants Rin had to hold up with one hand. “Just a sec, I’ll find you a belt.”

When he dashed back for his bedroom, Haru let out an inelegant snort. “Can’t wave your wand and make this problem go away?”

“Do I look like a seamstress? I don’t have any hemming charms on hand.” He glanced down at the hem of the pants, which pooled about his feet; maybe a shortening spell? But these weren’t his pants, and it would be rude to return them unwearable. He groaned. “Maybe we should skip the cafe…”

“We can,” Haru offered absently, but the way he averted his gaze, avoiding eye contact, told Rin he would truly be disappointed if Rin took them straight back to Tokyo. Maybe Makoto had a point; perhaps words weren’t needed with someone so accustomed to speaking with his body. He felt a little proud that he was starting to get a handle on reading Haru, though he quickly tamped down the spark.

“You’re only saying that because you’re worried this Suzu-san of yours will have more humiliating stories to share.”

Haru went a bit pale. “No—you can’t talk to her.”

“Can’t I?”

“No,” Haru reminded firmly. “Not if…if you’re going to do _that_ again.”

Ah. He was still sore about the Charm. Rin rolled his eyes and began picking at a thread that was coming loose from his sleeve. “Your Makoto was probably the best source of information about you and your place in this community—now that I’ve cleaned him out, there’s no reason to go out of my way to endear other Muggles to me.” He raised a brow. “Happy?”

Haru kept his expression wary. “…You won’t…Charm them, then?”

“Not on purpose,” Rin allowed, as it was all he could promise. Muggles were naturally less resistant to Influence than Wizarding folk, which made cleanup much more of a hassle, as Obliviators would be needed and stories concocted. No, dropping by a cafe in the middle of the day, even one so far removed from even Muggle civilization as Haru’s, was not the brightest idea, but he’d probably be able to scrape by with only a few suggestive looks and maybe an overly eager waitress. It was times like these he missed Sousuke the most, having grown too accustomed over the years to his imposing presence that helped drive others off.

“…I’m sorry. For earlier.”

Rin continued to pick at the thread absently. “You’ve done a few things to annoy me today; you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“…In the kitchen.”

He let his arm drop back to his side, inhaling deeply before releasing his breath in a slow exhalation. He could feel a headache coming on. “…Makoto said he’d never heard you speak before, and I figure if you were going to talk to anyone outside of your family, it’d be him.” He flicked his gaze over to Haru, who seemed to be hunched in on himself and trying to appear as tiny as possible. “You’ve never Enthralled anyone, have you?” Haru froze, swallowed thickly, then shook his head. “Thought so.”

“You did?”

Rin shrugged. “Well, I could _feel_ it, like you were trying to jam a broomstick up my—anyway, you weren’t exactly subtle about it, and…Influence is supposed to be just that: a subtle, unnoticeable _shift_ that the other party doesn’t notice, doesn’t even care about because they’re focused 150% on _you_.” He made a show of checking the time on a pocket watch he’d stuffed into his robes, which now sat neatly folded in his lap. “It’s an art.”

“Art…” Haru repeated, turning the word over in his mouth. “Art is meant to be beautiful. This isn’t beautiful—this is…forceful, insistent. It’s demanding.”

Rin shifted around to face Haru fully, one leg tucked underneath himself while the other dangled off the sofa, and he rested his head in one palm. “You don’t find that kind of thing beautiful? Holding all of someone’s focus, having them at your pleasure? It’s not about forcing them into something they _don’t_ want… It’s about relieving them of self-imposed restraint railing against something they _do_ want.” He paused for a moment in consideration. “Or at least, that’s how it is with Veela. We’re creatures of pleasure.”

Haru’s gaze darted over his face, wary. “…You like it, then? Doing that?”

Liked it? That didn’t begin to cover it. “…The problem isn’t whether or not I like doing it. It’s that I don’t have a choice. You? You can speak without exerting a Thrall. The Ministry just doesn’t trust you not to. But me? I never get to be a face in the crowd, or live in a little backwoods hamlet where no one pays me any attention. I don’t get to fall for someone and help free them of inhibition when we’re together because their default value with me will always be _inhibition-less_. And isn’t that half the fun of being with someone? To witness that shift from stranger to friend to more-than-friend and know it’s something you brought about intentionally, something you had to work for?”

He wanted to do it—oh he _wanted_ to do it. But to someone who _wanted_ him to do it. Who already desired him and wanted him to help them desire him _more_. Someone who wanted him, of their own volition, to turn them inside out and render them putty in his hands. 

The room was quiet now, not even the distant shuffling and knocking of Makoto turning his room upside down looking for a belt that might fit Rin, and he felt of a sudden very self-conscious. He hadn’t meant to unload like that, even less so on Haru. This was ten kinds of inappropriate, and he needed to pull back his control of the situation—

“You can’t Charm me.”

Haru’s voice was low and firm, that dull monotone that sounded so matter-of-fact as to be irritating on the best of days.

“You can’t Charm me,” he repeated, straightening. “My…inhibitions are firmly in place, and they won’t be moved.”

Rin let that sink in a moment, realizing that this must be Haru’s way of trying to console him, and he snorted softly. “Yeah, I guess there’s that.”

“So you’ll have to work if you want to take them down.”

Rin’s gaze snapped back to Haru at this, mental whiplash preventing him from processing the statement. “What did—”

“Found a belt!” Makoto announced, grin wide and pleased as he jogged back into the den.

* * *

The cafe was bustling, busier than Rin would have credited. But it was situated in the heart of the ‘downtown’ area, across the street from a tiny local train station and next to a bank that seemed laughably insecure even by Muggle standards. Haru was leaning over a pastry case that showcased the cafe’s sweeter fare as he conversed with an elderly Muggle woman that Rin now knew to be the Suzu-san Makoto had mentioned. 

As he’d feared, his arrival had prompted stares from all corners of the little shop, though Haru had assured him it had less to do with any Veela allure and more to do with the fact that Makoto’s clothes looked two sizes too big on him and he had an ebony-handled wand sticking out of one pocket. They’d taken a small table away from others, and most of the other customers had satisfied themselves with merely staring, though the waitress had been by to refill his water glass three times in the last ten minutes, so they would need to be moving along soon.

When Haru finally rejoined him, it was with two small servings of cheese tart. “With Suzu-san’s compliments. I told her you weren’t one for sweets.” He passed Rin a small dessert fork, warning, “The back-up pastry chef hasn’t been here long, though, and he worked at a conbini before applying here, so…I can’t vouch for the taste.”

Rin didn’t know what a conbini was, but the distaste in Haru’s tone told him it wasn’t a lofty position. “So you’re saying you could do better?”

“Of course,” he sniffed, glancing around at the other customers. “I wish I’d been able to prepare more before leaving…”

“You’ll be back soon enough,” Rin assured, slicing into the tort. “Did you explain things to your boss?”

“I told her I had family business to attend to in Tokyo, and that I’d try to be back as soon as possible.”

Rin frowned. “You won’t…lose your job or anything, will you?”

Haru shrugged ambivalently, clearly not that concerned over the possibility. “If she needs the help, she’ll hire it. I’ll manage, one way or another.”

There wasn’t much either of them could do about the situation, but it didn’t sit well with Rin, knowing how much this whole mess was disrupting Haru’s life. He wasn’t the easiest guy to get along with, but he was coping surprisingly well for someone who’d been jerked from a tiny hamlet in the middle of nowhere and forcer into the middle of a major murder investigation. 

The tart was actually quite good, but suddenly Rin wasn’t so hungry anymore. He glanced out through the front window of the cafe, chin propped up in one hand, and stared—at the children biking through the empty town square streets, at the lonely two-car train servicing the station once an hour, at the single automobile idling near a set of benches that Haru had told him was a ‘taxi’ hoping for a passenger. 

It was all so very Muggle. So quiet, so lazy, so _unremarkable_. Haru lived here, never left town, going through the same routine day after day, meeting the same people day in, day out. Everyone who lived here was a Muggle. Everyone who traveled through on that tiny two-car line was a Muggle. Everyone who managed to find their way out of here into a better life was a Muggle. 

These people couldn’t help him—they were more likely to die from magical mischief than commit it themselves. So why?

Why would someone come all the way out here, to a tiny town that was little more than a pinhead-sized blip on a map, to frame a rogue Siren? Haru couldn’t have enemies—not magical ones, at least. He never interacted with the magical community, after all. So not a grudge, then—but still targeted. Somehow.

The ‘somehow’ was where things got tricky; Haru’s pond was Unplottable, and his property was bounded by Muggle-repelling charms. Any witch or wizard could easily wander upon the pond, sure, but how likely was that to happen? This had been a murder—planned and executed precisely. No part of this plot had been left to chance—least of all the choice of who to pin the deed on.

It hadn’t been random at all; it hadn’t been someone Haru had bumped into on a jaunt to the local magistrate’s office for one of his biennial reports—choosing Haru had been with _purpose_. And it had been done by someone who knew just where to find him.

Rin drummed his fingers on the table nervously, mind racing towards a precipice he knew lay ahead and which he was bound to dive off of—because locations and territories of all magical beasts were Ministry record, and while anyone could probably track most Mer colonies—as those tended to be located in International waters and were subject to oversight by several national Ministries—information on Japan’s _local_ beasts was only accessible through the Japanese Ministry of Magic.

Which meant only someone with Ministry credentials would’ve been able to pinpoint Haru’s exact location. Someone who wanted a Siren—a lone one. A perfect scapegoat.

He felt eyes on him—and glanced back to see Haru was watching him, fork dangling from his lips. “…Are you not hungry?”

No, Rin wasn’t; in fact, he felt a little sick now, realizing that one of his own coworkers was either the culprit or up to their ears in involvement. He tightened his lips into a thin smile, shaking his head. “You were right; your replacement can’t cook for shit.”

There were access logs—sign-in records that might provide a clue as to who had dug up Haru’s location. He considered for a moment summoning a raven to send a message back to the Department and have the information waiting on his desk as soon as they returned, but quickly reconsidered. There was a mole, possibly a murderer wandering through the Ministry. He couldn’t show his hand just yet.

He stood up, hiking the drooping pants back up around his waist with one hand and drawing his wand out with the other, and jerked his head for the door. “C’mon; we need to get back to the Ministry.”

Haru just frowned, then glanced around nervously. “Is something wrong?”

“Very,” Rin muttered, marching for the door.

* * *

“Matsuoka—please tell me that trip out to the boonies was worth it,” Sasabe groaned when Rin strode onto the Department floor, finally back in proper robes. “The aurora’s office is breathing down my neck, threatening to go to the Minister herself to get the case transferred since it’s no longer a Beast suspect we’re dealing with.” 

Rin glanced around the floor; this late in the day, most of the other Department members had either headed home by now or were out on assignment, so there were few still around to witness their Director’s breakdown. “I thought you’d be glad to be rid of this case, sir?”

“All bluster,” Sousuke called as he stepped off the lift, waving a sheaf of papers in their face when he joined them in the Director’s office. “He’s hoping a collar on this case could elevate the status of our department.”

Sasabe snatched the documents from Sousuke’s hands, suddenly all business and with a sour expression fixed on Sousuke. “More of that lip and you’ll be doing janitorial duty in the Department of Mysteries. No one will ever see or hear from you again.”

Sousuke raised his hands innocently. “My apologies, Sir. Of course your reasoning is something far loftier, like wanting to finish a job you started…?” His tone went questioning at the end, waiting to see if Sasabe would relent, and after a moment, Sasabe rolled his eyes and settled back, leafing through the documents Sousuke had brought up.

As they waited for the Director to finish his review, Sousuke kicked Rin lightly in the shin. “Where’ve you been all day? Take your new pet out for a walk?”

Rin let his head fall back against his chair, closing his eyes. “Business trip—interrogated some of the Muggles in the Siren’s hometown to see if they’d noticed anything suspicious.”

“I thought the pond was cordoned off with Muggle-repelling charms.”

“It is—but you can’t just Apparate there without knowing where the place is to begin with, so I was hoping some of the locals might’ve noticed strangers in town lately.” He tugged at his robes. “We tend to stick out, or so I hear.”

They both jumped in their seats as Sasabe slapped his papers down on his desk, interrupting with, “And? Did it pan out?”

Rin swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “It…I’m still working on it. I’ll have more to report soon, sir.”

“I’m sure you will…” Sasabe muttered morosely, waving in Sousuke’s direction. “What about you? This report tells me nothing I couldn’t have gleaned from lunchtime gossip in the mess.”

Sousuke grimaced, likely still stinging from the Director’s earlier threat to demote him. “I’m compiling a list of known enemies of Kasahara with enough malice to actually resort to murder—then I’m going to start looking into their alibis for the night in question.” Sasabe nodded, though the gesture carried a note of resignation as if he didn’t expect much to come of it. “If I could get Matsuoka’s help, the process would probably go a lot—”

“Actually,” Rin interrupted sharply, “I—kind of have my own lead I’d like to chase down.” Both turned to regard him with some incredulity, and he continued, “Yamazaki’s got this handled—but there’s something else I want to look into.”

“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Matsuoka?”

Rin firmed his jaw, standing. “Not just yet, sir. Wouldn’t want to join Yamazaki scrubbing floors in the Department of Mysteries if I’m wrong.”

“Good man,” Sasabe nodded. “Now get the hell out of my office.”


	6. Chapter 6

On investigation, Rin’s hunch had both paid off and not.

His initial review of the access logs had shown nothing out of the ordinary, but a Revealing Charm confirmed his suspicions: someone had indeed tampered with the log. But people were in and out of the archives all day, so there was little hope of asking the witch or wizard who’d been on duty the week before the murder if they’d noticed anyone suspicious lurking about. His murderer was being careful to cover their tracks, but at least Rin could be certain now that there was a ministry worker—or official even—involved.

They were getting nowhere with the investigation, so long as Haru’s memory remained impaired, and even Sousuke was showing uncharacteristic difficulty in chasing down leads, as his research into alibis of Kasahara’s known enemies had dragged on for three days now.

But where days at the Ministry were long and difficult and frustrating, Rin was finding that mornings and evenings with Haru were actually starting to get manageable, even almost _enjoyable_. Haru had obliged Rin by wearing bottoms when he cooked (at least, when he cooked for Rin; there was no telling what state he kept himself in during the day while Rin was out), and Rin had rewarded this compliance with trips to the baths, soaking away his worries while Haru stretched his fins in the bottomless tubs.

But it was more than mere compliance, Rin was starting to realize. He’d stopped giving Rin the quiet treatment when he had no progress to report on the investigation, took Rin’s tastes into consideration (most of the time) when planning the breakfast and dinner menus, and had even suggested Rin take him out to find some proper robes to wear when Rin had complained for the fourth day running about Haru’s far-too-Muggle taste in clothing.

It was unsettling, left Rin feeling off-balance—like bending to lift something you thought would be heavy, bracing yourself, and then finding it light as a feather. It felt a little like being led into a trap—one baited with pleasantries and easy interaction. Part of him wanted to grab Haru by the shoulders and shake some sense back into him, perhaps to insist he go back to cooking in the nude or serving up nothing but mackerel fillets, but that would be ridiculous, he told himself, so instead he decided to embrace it.

Which brought them to the front entrance of Shibuya 109¾, an austere all-glass building that stretched up for ten floors and glinted in the morning sunlight. The Shibuya Floo Hub had spit them out near the Muggle train station, so they'd had to fight their way through a flood of Muggles all dashing about at breakneck speed and avoid getting rundown by the noisy automobiles screaming through the scramble crossing. Twice, Haru had grabbed the neck of Rin’s robes to yank him back as he attempted to step off the curb and into oncoming traffic, drawing Rin’s attention to the boxes flashing symbols indicating their turn to cross.

“You live in Tokyo, but you don’t know how to cross the street properly?”

“No, I live in _Wizarding_ Tokyo,” Rin sniffed. “As if I’d be caught dead wandering around in this melee if I didn’t have to!” It was a popular pastime among younger wizards and witches to see how well they could pass among Muggles without tipping their hand—and in a city like Tokyo, that was exceedingly easy. But Rin necessarily drew attention no matter where he went, even if he cloaked himself in an Invisibility Charm, so he’d elected to instead bury himself in his studies; after all, it was going to be tough enough getting the Ministry to hire someone with Influential blood in their veins, and Rin couldn’t risk not landing the job. It _meant_ something to him, finally having the power to stop what had happened to his father…from happening to someone else’s.

But today wasn’t about busting up jobberknoll smuggling rings or ensuring that a retailer’s puffskeins were all bog-standard and not of the fanged variety. Today, he was on a mission to find Haru a set of robes he would be proud to own.

They probably could’ve gone to Ame-Tatechou for more reasonably-priced goods—it was a popular shopping destination for both tourists and locals alike who enjoyed the high-rise low-priced shops that floated unremarked over the Muggle district below. But well, for one thing—the Ministry was footing the bill for all expenditures associated with the investigation, and given that Haru couldn’t return home for money or clothing of his own, Rin was going to take advantage of that _carte-blanche_. And for another, he kind of wanted Haru to have something nice for his first and likely only set of robes.

The 109¾ was cloaked in a Muggle-repelling Charm, but even if it hadn’t been, it would’ve fit right into the landscape, as bright and shiny and inviting as the Muggle department stores flanking either side. Rin preferred the more old-world sorts of haunts, like Ame-Tatechou and Sakegahara’s baths, but he could kind of see the appeal of the sleek, modern-looking 109¾.

The ceilings were all charmed to reflect a beautiful sunny day, regardless of the actual weather outside, and soothing disembodied voices greeted shoppers by name as they stepped into the building, helpfully pointing out sales or new merchandise of note. Rin wandered over to a placard posted on a wall, scanning it to find the menswear floor.

“It’s been ages since I last shopped here—I think I came with Gou when she visited…” Haru wasn’t listening, though, head snapping this way and that as he tried to take in all the sights at once—the floating cafe tables bobbing lazily through the air in the central atrium (a popular date spot, not that Rin would know), the moving staircases ferrying shoppers effortlessly from one floor to the next, the fragrant petals charmed to fall from above in perpetual bloom only to disintegrate on contact. 

The lower floors were mostly cafes and restaurants, with the boutiques occupying floors higher up. The topmost floors were so expensive to shop on they practically had a required dress code, but their destination today—Robewear By Yazaki—was one of the more reasonably priced and yet still upscale establishments.

Older, traditional Japanese wizarding wear had fallen out of fashion in favor of the lighter, less obtrusive foreign imports, until now, outside of the most traditional of ceremonies, hardly anyone wore the over-the-top traditional _sokutai_. Rin still remembered his mother renting a set for his admissions ceremony, where he’d nearly fainted from heatstroke standing there listening to the headmaster drone on and on about their bright, promising future as witches and wizards.

Robes, though, were much more practical—and could be quite fashionable as well. Standard ministry protocol required solid-color robes, so he couldn’t even pipe the borders in something flashy or wear more than a houndstooth scarf in the winter, but he still liked to keep his closet stocked with a variety of modestly-toned robes. Haru was probably so boring he’d insist on plain-old black, but Rin refused to leave the shop until he’d forced Haru into something with a bit of color and pizzazz.

A tinkling overhead announced their entrance as they stepped over the threshold, though they’d triggered no bell that Rin could see. An affectation hearkening back to a simpler time, Rin supposed, and in short order, a bright young witch swanned out, a pin cushion attached to one wrist with flying tape measures trailing behind her like flashy little birds. She broke out into a flushing grin as she drew nearer, and Rin forced himself to glance around the shop, avoiding eye contact. “Welcome, gentlemen!” she greeted, batting away the tape measures when they drew too close and started measuring Rin’s shoulder-width without prompting. “So sorry. How can I help you today?” She glanced Rin over approvingly. “New set of formal robes? Perhaps something a bit more casual to wear for a night on the town?” She gestured to a set of racks against which leaned dozens of bolts of fabric. “We just received a lovely import of color-changing silks from a supplier in China—”

“Ah—him, not me. We’re getting him a set of robes.” He jerked a thumb at Haru, stepping out of the way and grabbing Haru by the shoulders to steer him forward. “He’s mostly got, ah, hand-me-downs? So I thought I’d treat him to a properly tailored outfit.”

The witch clapped her hands. “Excellent! Yes yes, right this way.” She whirled around and marched them over to a fitting corner, directing Haru up onto a dais as she worked through the particulars. “Formal robes, then? Or perhaps something for an office environment? Or more casual?”

Rin gave Haru a once-over, calculating. “…More casual, I think. He doesn’t get out much, and his workplace isn’t all that strict with regard to clothes.” Haru cast him a withering look, and Rin flashed his sharp grin. “Something he can get laid in.”

“Oh!” The witch flushed, nodding vigorously. “Yes. Well then. Let’s get right to work.”

The flying tape measures snapped into action, practically cocooning Haru as they whirled around taking his lengths and widths. The witch seemed to understand Haru wouldn’t respond to any of her questions when Rin kept jumping in to answer her, so she eventually stopped trying altogether. If Haru objected to any of Rin’s decisions, he didn’t show it overtly, but Rin suspected he was rather glad to leave all of the choices to someone else.

He did, predictably, show some resistance to Rin’s choices of fabric design, but Rin just gave the dark navy material he’d selected a shake and insisted, “It’ll bring out your eyes, trust me.”

By the time the appropriate adjustments had been made, Haru was looking a little sapped for energy, and Rin reflected that they might need to hit the baths early this evening, so he could recoup his strength. He didn’t know how much time Haru typically spent out of water, but it had to be less than he’d been subjected to in the past week.

As the witch rang up their total, Haru blanched at the number of bags they were being saddled with, until Rin slapped a levitation charm on the lot, drawing them along to float behind them as they wandered the rest of the compound. “That’s convenient…” he muttered softly in awe as they stepped out, and Rin felt his chest puff up a little in pride. It was nice, being around someone so fascinated by magic despite being magic himself.

They shared a light lunch at one of the tables floating in the atrium, despite Haru’s initial reluctance, then whiled away the rest of the afternoon window-shopping. Rin purchased a packet of self-mailing stationery, since Gou was always hounding him to write more, and at the register, he added a vial of developing solution. He tucked the stationery into his own robes as they left the shop, then passed the vial to Haru with instructions on how to use it and a strict warning to _never_ let any Muggles see the pictures he developed with it. “…Except Makoto, I guess. But if I hear about _one_ Muggle tabloid claiming they’ve got their hands on moving pictures of a real-live mermaid…” He let the threat dangle, and Haru tucked the vial away in his pockets without objection, ducking his head in appreciation.

As the day was drawing to a close, Rin suggested they head down to the basement, where the potions ingredients market lay. “Need to pick up a potted Flitterbloom. Tama loves gnawing on the tentacles—guess it’s like catnip for _nekomata_ —but I usually get too caught up with work and wind up forgetting about it, so they die every few months or so. May as well pick up the latest victim while we’re here.”

Haru frowned at him, and Rin suddenly recalled the well-tended garden back at Haru’s place. He’d practically _blasphemed_ just now, he realized.

He quickly changed the subject. “Oh—and I should get a few new sprigs of vervain, too; I try to keep some on me whenever I’m out, helps to suppress my Charm. Every little bit helps, I guess.”

They stepped off the moving staircase into the crowd milling about the little basement marketplace, the charmed sunny sky still shining overhead to give the illusion they were all shopping in a charming alley aboveground. Rin made his way, Haru and their bags in tow, for the dried herb section—and nearly bumped into a gangly young wizard who stammered out a brusque apology before—

“Ah, Rin-san!”

Rin groaned inwardly, recognizing the wizard now as Ryuugazaki, the Head Potioneer in the Department of Potions, Draughts, and Infusions. Lingering in such a large crowd wasn’t a good idea in the first place, and idle chatter with a coworker he barely knew would only slow them down. “Hey, Ryuugazaki—”

“Really, Rin-san! I’ve been asking you to call me ‘Rei’ for months now! It’s far too formal, otherwise.”

“Ah, yeah—sorry ‘bout that…Rei.” He feigned interest in a pile of overripe plantains, prodding their flesh. “Doing a little ingredients shopping?”

“Indeed!” He shook a basket of the very ingredient Rin was after—vervain stems. “Rush order on a new batch of Impersuasion infusion.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “So sorry about the mix-up last month!”

“Mix-up?” He felt Haru draw up alongside him, curious as to their conversation. “What mix-up?”

“Oh—I’m sorry, I'm sure we sent a raven? Yours was the Department most heavily affected, I think, since a good quarter of our monthly stocks go there.” He nodded to the basket in hand. “Seems the vervain used in the last batch had been part of a crop exposed to some Muggle pesticides. Ruined the whole potion—and caused some nasty upset stomachs too, apparently.”

Dicey Impersuasion infusions? Sousuke was the only one regularly taking the potion in their department, as far as Rin knew, but he hadn’t mentioned feeling poorly. Maybe he’d gotten lucky and missed this wave. Rin pointed to the basket. “Mind if I steal a few sprigs? I like to keep a few on me.”

“Yes of course, go right ahead!” Ryuugazaki enthusiastically shoved the basket at Rin, who had to struggle to stay standing. He gingerly extracted a handful of twigs before passing the basket back, grimacing his thanks. “Are you sure that’s enough? You can have the whole basket if you like! I can always go back for more! And if you ever need help with _any_ kind of potion, or if you’d like a tour of our rare ingredients vault? All you need to do is ask, I’m available at all hours of the day—practically sleep in my lab, haha!” He adjusted his glasses, and Rin ducked an uncomfortable nod.

“That’s—nice of you, really. Thanks, Ryuuga—ah, Rei.” Ryuugazaki beamed, cheeks high and pink. How on earth the guy could still be so susceptible to Rin’s Charm with a whole _bushel_ of vervain shoved right under his nose, Rin couldn’t understand—maybe he actually had a genuine crush on Rin. Deciding he didn’t want to test that theory, Rin awkwardly thanked Ryuugazaki again and quickly slipped back into the crowd with Haru and their packages hot on his heels.

He needed a bath—and a drink. Or maybe both at once.

* * *

Rin and Haru had developed a rhythm at the bathhouse by now—on entering, it was straight to the changing rooms, where they stored their purchases and changed into towels, then a quick scrub down before finally settling into one of the larger tubs, where Rin would relax in his charmed bubble of warm water while Haru did laps in the _Glacius_ -cooled deep bathwater.

An attendant brought over a tray of firewhiskey Rin had ordered for the both of them, and Rin raised his glass in a toasting gesture. “To your first set of robes. You sure as hell better wear them, too.”

Haru rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against Rin’s all the same, knocking back the drink. “My ‘get-laid-in’ robes?”

“You don’t _have_ to get laid in them, if that’s not your thing—just now you have the _option_.”

“I need robes, for sex?”

Rin snorted, taking his firewhiskey quite a bit more slowly than Haru had knocked his own back. “Okay—you got me there. But your nifty little Thrall isn’t gonna work on the types of people you’ll want to be with.”

“And that is?”

“You know, Influential sorts.” Haru’s frown showed he didn’t follow. “Wait, you were planning on hooking up with a normal human?”

“I don’t recall saying I was planning on ‘hooking up’ with anyone.”

Now Rin was frowning—was Haru just being difficult again. “Wha—then what did we buy you robes for?”

Haru shrugged, relaxing against the side of the bath and darting a tongue into the tumbler to lick up the last traces of firewhiskey. “You wanted to buy them for me. I let you.” He raked his gaze over Rin. “You enjoyed it, so what’s the harm?”

Rin screwed up his features, a little put-out. “I enjoyed it ‘cause I thought you wanted them.”

“I did.”

“Yeah, but you just wanted them because you thought I _wanted_ you to have them.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Well yeah but—” He rubbed at his forehead. “Wait, I’m confused now. Just—stop talking for a second.” He finished off his glass. “…You’re never gonna wear those robes, are you?”

Haru cocked his head, pondering. “…Well I’ll need something to wear back to the apartment. Since you make terrible noises when I choose to go nud—”

Rin splashed a wave into his face, cutting him off, then sputtered a snorted laugh at the waterlogged glare he was returned. “Gimme a break, you’re already soaking wet, what’s a little more water gonna hurt?”

Haru wiped a hand over his face, slicking his hair back from his forehead. “You act like such a child sometimes.”

“And you’re entirely too buttoned-down sometimes.” Rin poked Haru’s tail with a toe. “…You ever wish you didn’t have this?”

“Didn’t have what?” He glanced down at his tail. “…You mean do I ever wish I wasn’t a Siren?”

Rin shrugged. “Seems like a pain in the ass most of the time. You can’t talk to anyone—unless you’re living in an Aggregation, and even then you can only talk to other members. You have to register with the Ministry—”

“So do you,” Haru reminded softly.

“Yeah, so I know it sucks, being monitored all the time—having to report in and update your records because you can’t be trusted on your own.” He made a fist, wishing he’d asked for another round of firewhiskeys. “It’s barbaric, the way they treat Beings… I mean, I know in Ministry terms merfolk aren’t Beings, but you may as well be.”

“You’re part of the Ministry,” Haru pointed out coolly.

“I know—and I maintain that we’re fucking barbaric. It’s one thing to make sure the creatures that can’t help themselves aren’t getting picked off by Muggles, but it’s another to impose all these rules and regulations on Beings. At the very least we should be _working_ with you. If someone murders a Councillor—the Ministry brings down hell on the head of the perpetrator. But if someone murders a Veela, you know what they do?”

“What…?”

“Nothing,” Rin laughed bitterly. “They usually leave it to the head of the Volt to deal with, if it’s internal, or if it’s a Wizard, they’ll get a fine, maybe have their wand repossessed for a few months. If it’s a Muggle, they won’t do anything.” He leaned his head back to rest against the edge. “You should pack those robes away as soon as you’re released, Haru. Never leave that pond again. We aren’t worth it.”

* * *

Tama met them at the door, as per usual, and Haru padded into the kitchen to fill his food bowl. Rin paused in the genkan to watch him go, enjoying the way the new robe hung from Haru’s frame as he jogged down the hallway. It had been an exercise in and of itself getting Haru into the thing after their soak—he hadn’t liked that there were so many buttons, complaining that he couldn’t easily slip out of it when he wanted to swim. “Then maybe you’ll have to learn to practice some restraint for once,” Rin had chuckled, and Haru had given him the silent treatment for ten minutes for that remark.

The cut looked great, though, and the color did indeed bring out his eyes—he’d be the best-dressed Siren in his whole prefecture now. They’d already grabbed a quick dinner at the bathhouse cafeteria, so Rin poured himself a cup of warm pumpkin juice and settled onto the couch, not quite ready to turn in yet. 

The cushions beside him dipped as Haru joined him, holding the vial of developing solution. “This will really make pictures move?”

Rin flicked the vial with a finger. “Yup. I think I brought a copy of _Witch Weekly Japan_ home the other day if you want to see some…” He squirmed in place, trying to glance beneath the couch where Tama had probably dragged it to shred to pieces.

“ _Witch Weekly_?”

“Don’t judge,” he huffed, abandoning his search and flopping back on the couch as he sipped his juice.

A beat of silence stretched between them for a few moments, before Haru finally spoke: “Thank you, for today. I enjoyed it.”

“Hm? Oh—sure. Didn’t want you to have nothing but bad memories of this whole affair.”

“I wouldn’t—” Haru started to protest, then fell silent, rolling the vial of development solution between his palms. “It hasn’t been terrible. If I’d known your world was like this, I…”

“Would’ve still had nothing to do with us, because you’re perfectly content where you are, with no one to bother you?” Rin finished with a wry grin. “We had to _force_ you to come, remember?” He then sobered, muttering into his juice, “And you’re still a prisoner here.”

“It’s not such a bad prison,” Haru allowed, reaching over to take Rin’s juice from his hands, before giving it a sniff and then taking a sip for himself. “…That’s very good.”

“Then go get your own,” Rin protested, snatching his cup back—when something sharp dug into his side and he winced, “Owowow—what the…oh.” He wriggled to dislodge the object—and pulled out his wand. “I usually keep it in the other pocket.”

Haru eyed the wand with interest—then tentatively reached out to run a finger along the shaft, following the faint knots marbling the light cherry wood. It wasn’t a terribly remarkable wand, Rin thought—moderate length, fairly rigid. The core, really, was its finest feature—but no one could see that at a glance.

“You can hold it, if you want,” Rin offered; Ministry officials’ wands were all charmed with a low-level spell to burn anyone who tried to use it if they weren’t the owner, so there was little chance of Haru being able to effectively turn it on him even if he figured out how to work it.

Haru tentatively took the wand from him, giving it a few experimental flicks in the air and frowning in disappointment when nothing happened. Rin snorted softly, reminding, “It’s not really all that magical itself; just helps us hone our own innate magic and shape how it manifests.” He tapped the grip, then traced a finger up the shaft. “All wands have magical cores, though. It’s like…not really an energy boost, but decides what sort of witch or wizard we’ll become, because different cores help you perform different spells more easily. Some people argue, though, that it’s the other way around—that the cores are just attracted to certain types of people, certain personalities—and it’s that personality that is the driving force behind what kind of spells you perform easily.”

Haru regarded the wand curiously. “…What kind of core does yours have?”

Rin’s smile grew tight. “…Veela hair. One of my dad’s. I told you before that you can’t pluck a Veela hair—it kills the Veela and saps the hair of all its power. It has to be freely given.”

Haru turned the wand around to peer more closely at the grip, examining the leatherwork. “…So will you tell me now?”

“Hm?”

“What a Veela is.”

Rin straightened, frowning. “What do you mean? I told you plenty already.” He hunkered down on the couch, petulant—the reminder about losing their races stung, even if Haru’s victory had been a foregone conclusion.

“…You didn’t tell me about your Charm…”

“I told you I was Influential, just like you.” Rin shrugged. “You never noticed the way everyone stares at me wherever we go? How people practically trip over their own feet just to greet me?”

“That’s…I just thought…” He trailed off, though, leaving Rin kind of wondering how he’d been planning on finishing that sentence. “…So your father is a Veela?”

Leave it to Haru to charge into a delicate conversation with all of the tact of a minotaur. “…Yeah, he was. My mom’s just a normal, run-of-the-mill witch. She lives back in my hometown still—I moved to Tokyo for work.” He could see the next question coming, so he spared Haru the effort: “He’s dead now. He got, um…” He swallowed an unexpected lump. “Just—it’s not safe for full-blooded Veela living outside a Volt. There are lots of dark potions and spells that use biomaterial from Veela—their blood, fingernail clippings, sweat. Some people seem to think that stuff can be used to increase their sex appeal I guess…so there’s high demand.”

Creeps like Kasahara, clamoring against Beasts and Beings, could be found on every rung of society—and they were only too happy to reap the rewards of black-market sales of those creatures’ life and limbs. Hunks of Veela hair as good-luck charms, quills laced together into pearlescent shawls that drew every eye, teeth ground into powder that conwizards claimed increased libido—it made him _sick_ just thinking about what the men who’d murdered his father might have intended to do with his remains…

“My parents…they thought living away from most of the major Wizarding cities would be _safer_ …” Rin reflected with a sad smile. “Guess there’s no such place. Only difference is that here, people just _look_ at me like they want to eat me. Few ever actually try it.”

Haru’s frown went perplexed. “ _Eat_ you?”

“Not literally,” Rin laughed softly. “I meant—never mind.” He swirled his nearly empty mug of pumpkin juice, wondering if it would be worth the effort to get up for a refill and how much Haru would disapprove if he resorted to an _Accio_ spell.

“How does it work?”

“Hm? What?”

“Your…Charm?” He rolled the wand between his palms, distracted. “I don’t even know how to properly Enthrall someone…yet you seem to use your Charm on a daily basis.”

“Not on a _daily_ basis,” Rin protested. “There’s a difference between my innate allure and exerting my Charm on a suspect to get some information.”

“There is?” Haru’s tone suggested he didn’t see much difference.

“There _is_ ,” Rin insisted. “When I use my Charm, it’s like…a combination of things. The sound of my voice, the flush of my skin, the look in my eye, the scent I carry. They all get turned up to 11 and just…make people want to make me happy. So that I’ll keep sharing that with them—keep talking, keep touching, keep paying them attention.”

“And…this innate allure, then?”

“That’s more…I dunno. It’s just who I am. They ran a few trials when I first started; I guess they thought it was a rare opportunity to study how distracting even diluted Veela characteristics can be on Wizarding folk? There were interviews with coworkers—some of them said they just remembered I had really nice eyes, or that they had liked the way I sounded, even if they didn’t feel anything for me after the fact. It’s more fleeting, when I don’t try—thank god, or else I couldn’t go into the office, even with Sousuke playing my bouncer. Most of them, though…”

“Most of them?” Haru prompted.

“They said I smelled good… None of them ever described the same scent—but they all remembered it made them feel really content, calm. At home.”

Haru’s brows furrowed, and he leaned forward without asking to slip his face into the crook of Rin’s neck, inhaling deeply. He drew back, remarking, “You smell like the water.”

“Well we _did_ just get back from the baths,” Rin reminded, holding out his hands at arms’ length—still a little pruned. “If we keep this up, I’m gonna sprout fins like you…”

Haru laid his nose against Rin’s bicep, though, and inhaled again, trying to catch his scent through the fabric of his robes. “It’s not the bathwater…it’s cleaner, fresher…” He glanced up, eyes dark. “…It’s nice.”

Rin reached over, tugging his wand from Haru’s grip and slipping it back into his robes. “Maybe,” he returned with a coyness that probably didn’t suit him, “You’re not as immune to my Charm as you’d like to think.”

“Nn…” Haru murmured in soft agreement, before leaning in closer. “Maybe I’m not…” He then laid his lips gently over Rin’s, eyes half-lidded, and breath hitching when they made contact. Rin’s jaw instinctively dipped a little as he inhaled sharply with surprise, and Haru pressed home, sealing the kiss with gentle pressure. Rin’s hands snapped up to grip the fabric of Haru’s new robes, tugging on the soft blue material in a manner that only drew Haru closer, and he felt the cushions shift as Haru braced a knee between Rin’s splayed legs.

He’d kissed a few people before—and it always ended the same: gentle exploration, ratcheting intensity, flushed skin and building breaths until Rin remembered why he couldn’t do this. He didn’t have his usual excuse with Haru—there were no issues of consent here, and he couldn’t Charm Haru into doing something he didn’t want, as Haru had pointedly reminded him—but that didn’t make this a good idea, or a smart one.

A warm tongue traced at the seam of his lips, and Rin pushed away with just enough force to break the kiss, turning his head to the side before he stopped caring about protocol. “Dammit, Haru…” he complained, though his voice was already going a little throaty, and he knew Haru couldn’t miss the fact that he’d let that kiss go on just a bit longer than he should have. “You can’t be doing that…”

“You told me that about my Thrall.”

“Well there’s lots of things you can’t do—want me to jot down a list?” He made no effort to untangle himself from Haru’s limbs just yet, though—it was nice, being this close to someone. It’d been too long, and they weren’t doing anything wrong now, so…this was fine. If sending mixed signals.

“You’re going to tell me there’s a Ministry statute against this?”

Rin winced. “No. You’re—it was nice, but—”

“You liked it?” Haru prodded, and his eyes went a little wide, like he hadn’t been expecting such praise.

Rin ignored him. “—but just because I’m Veela doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with anyone who comes along.”

Haru frowned. “…What does your being Veela have to do with anything?”

Oh—right, Haru might have learned a few scattered facts in his time in the big city, but he hadn’t been exposed to their culture long enough to absorb the stereotypes. “…Nothing,” Rin sighed. “Forget it. Besides—you’re a suspect. Or a witness, or something, I don’t really even know anymore, but either way, you’re involved in this case. You’re here under duress—”

“I’m in your apartment because I _have_ to be—I’m mounting you because I _want_ to—”

“If you say _mounting_ again I will slap a Silencing charm on you so fast your head will spin.” Haru clammed up, and Rin took a breath. “You can’t kiss me.”

“Why not?” He leaned down to drag another inhalation from Rin’s flesh. “You’re beautiful. You smell nice—”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Rin interrupted—though an unhelpful part of him reminded Rin that none of his usual tricks worked on Haru, so this was all genuine. He didn’t find Rin beautiful because he felt compelled to see him as such, he really _did_ think he was beautiful.

Haru was undeterred. “You swim. You’ve been kind to me—”

“That. _That_ is why. You’re only confused—I’m the first person outside of your family you’ve ever been able to have a conversation with, probably your first friend outside of Makoto. You’re a nice guy, and it hasn’t been torture having you as a houseguest. But you’re…mistaking the comfort of friendship for more. That’s all.”

Haru finally shifted off of him, back to his side of the couch, and his expression washed blank. “…You never mentioned that was one of your Veela skills.”

Rin was thrown by the comment. “Huh? What?”

“Reading my mind.”

A hot flash of irritation flared up. “ _Hey_ —you’re the podunk hermit who can’t tell a newt tail from a Devil’s Snare tendril! I’ve had plenty of experience in learning to tell when someone’s in their right mind around me and when they’re not, and even _Makoto_ could tell you this is just some—I don’t know, Siren imprinting!”

“We don’t imprint,” Haru frowned, then sniffed haughtily and sighed. “But I suppose I can understand your hesitation.”

“Good, then we—”

“Sirens can be challenging lovers.”

“Wait— _what_? Hold up…”

“It’s why we so rarely lay with any outside our own kind. I’m told we're difficult partners and that few can keep up with us.”

This was not going how Rin had expected. “ _Keep up_?”

“I think my granddam once mentioned a poor unfortunate sailor not surviving the impregnation of his Siren wife when his heart gave out from the exertion…”

“Ah hah…” Rin laughed knowingly, then shook a finger. “I see what you’re doing. Clever. Goading me into sleeping with you.”

“I did no such thing; I only gave insight into Siren mating rituals. You’re right to be wary, now that I think about it.”

"It's not working—I'm on to your scheme. But setting that aside for a moment, I'll have you know we Veela are _built_ for stamina."

Haru raised a brow. "You certainly wouldn't know it, from the way you huff and puff after our races."

" _Hey_ , that's just—" Rin started, then cut himself off, no longer quite up to arguing. He let a beat of silence pass between them as they both calmed. "...Why are you doing this?"

Haru kept his focus fixed on the far wall, not looking Rin in the eye. "...Because maybe you're right."

"That sounds like me; but about which part?"

"...Maybe you're the first person I've ever been able to speak to, and it's going to my head. Maybe you're Charming me without meaning to." 

"You communicated with Makoto just fine, all these years. And for the fiftieth time, it's physically impossible for me to Charm you."

"Then I suppose I must really want you." He fixed Rin with his sharp stare, expression blank but eyes alive. "So why are _you_ doing _this_?"

Rin stiffened, spine straight—because he didn't have an answer. He had a lot of _reasons_ : the fact that Haru was a witness, that he was part of an ongoing investigation, that they'd known each other all of five days and Rin didn't know if he was ready to be the grain of truth in the Veela stereotype. But he couldn't help the voice, soft and teasing in the back of his mind, wondering if he was protesting because he _really_ didn't want to give in, or because it was just easier than accepting that even if Haru didn't wind up being the _only_ person Rin could ever trust his feelings around, he was the only person _here_ , right now, trying to give Rin a taste of his own medicine: to relieve him of his inhibitions.

And for someone who always had to keep himself in check, who could all too easily take advantage of others...that was a tempting offer. 

"Rin..." Haru called, drawing Rin's attention back, and then he made the incredibly stupid mistake of looking Haru square in the eyes. He was trapped, like some deep-sea fry caught in the mesmerizing glow of something he knew to be a toothy predator but still couldn't look away from. He was being drawn in, swallowed whole. "Rin."

Haru kept saying his name, like a mantra, shifting and leaning forward until he was saying it against the sensitive skin over his pulse, against his earlobe, along his jawline. Repeating and repeating and sending buzzing shudders down Rin's spine, until he wondered if maybe this was what it felt like to be caught in a Siren's Thrall, to be putty in their hands ready to do whatever they asked. There were a dozen reasons he shouldn't do this, but they kept getting drowned out by _Rin Rin Rin_ , and he'd fought against getting swept away in the moment for so long...would anyone blame him if the time he finally lost his footing, it was someone born to swim who pulled him under?

"Why am I doing this?" he repeated rhetorically. "Because maybe you're right..." And when Haru whispered his name against his lips, practically on top of him now, he responded with a wry smile that said he knew he was going to regret this, "You _can_ be a challenge...and I never back down from one." He dropped his chin, bracing his hands to grip Haru by the hips and tug him closer as he opened for a proper kiss. He'd deal with consequences in the morning—and if he was going to have something to regret, he wanted it to be _worth_ regretting.

At least the kissing stopped Haru from murmuring Rin's name, and Rin let himself sink into the cushions as Haru's kiss grew forceful, demanding. It was just the tiniest bit endearing, the way _everything_ Haru did reflected his personality. Brusque, stubborn, straightforward—Rin was much more the romantic type, but this wasn't about romance or love or anything so sappy. It was convenience and lust, and they could sort out the details of what it meant later. 

Haru pulled back a hair, lips plump and breath labored, to whisper, "The tub...can we go to the tub...?" and that brought Rin out of his haze.

"Wha—the _tub_? Why?" He frowned, letting Haru's request sink in. The Siren he was making out with...wanted to take this to Rin's _tub_. _Shit_ —did Haru _need_ to be in water to do this? Sirens spent most, if not all, of their lives immersed in water, so it only stood to reason that _this_ was something they usually did in a watery environment... "But—the bed's..." He groaned. "Do we _have_ to do it in the water? The bed's so much more comfortable, and my tub's tiny..." He would've been hard-pressed to pull off an extension charm on the tub even if he _weren't_ half-hard; now, he probably couldn't conjure a daisy.

"The water's more fun, though," Haru wheedled, nipping just below Rin's ear and then suckling gently on the mark he left.

Rin was unconvinced. "For wh—which one of us?" He braced a hand between them to push Haru away. "I'm not gonna have my first time be in a bathtub, come on." He grabbed Haru's wrist and tugged him to his feet, leading the way to the bedroom. That Haru offered no further protest nor complaint suggested he had either come to see Rin's logic, or he was too horny now to care.

Tama had curled up on Rin's bed after his dinner, and Rin shooed him off, locking him outside the room and ignoring his angry scratching on the door. He waved the wand about the room, reducing the lighting with a swish, then placed it in a holster that hung from a bedpost as he began unlacing and doing away with buttons. Haru, predictably, needed a little help with the complicated fasteners on his own robe, and he was not shy about letting Rin know that this was _just_ the kind of thing he'd warned might happen, and how on earth was this supposed to be a robe he could get laid in if by the time he got it off, mutual ardors had cooled?

"Quit bitching and get your pants off," Rin chuckled, "Or I'll run next door and see if Sousuke's home yet."

The threat put some pep in Haru's step, and quickly his new robes, undershirt, and boxers lay pooled on the floor—revealing an unexpected problem. "Oh..." Rin cocked his head, taking his first good look at Haru's body. "Well. Um, I guess that's one...less thing to discuss..."

He didn't have a dick. He didn't have a _dick_ —and fuck, what if this was just like the nipple thing? Rin had assumed that Haru would be properly equipped below the belt, without even _considering_. He'd tried to be polite in the bathhouse on their trips, keeping his eyes averted, but maybe he should've snuck a _little_ peek, because this was just going to be _awkward_.

"What's wrong?" Haru asked, following Rin's gaze. 

"N—nothing," Rin muttered, wondering how inappropriate it was to discuss another species' gonads. Or lack thereof. Crap. "Just you, uh... I mean, I assumed..." This was a disaster. "You don't have a _dick_. I thought you wanted to..." And oh _man_ , what if he'd completely misread the situation? What if he'd just misinterpreted all that suggestive talk? Maybe Sirens didn't reproduce the same way other animals did, maybe—

"What? Of course I do, don't be ridiculous." Haru then reached down between his legs, parting a flap of skin Rin hadn't noticed—and pulled out a respectable-length (if a bit on the skinny side) semi-erect cock that he began to slowly coax to hardness. 

A wave of shameful relief washed over Rin, and he felt his shoulders visibly sag. " _Oh_..." 

"We keep it in a pouch, like any reasonable sea creature. We'd never get anywhere with the drag this would cause, otherwise." He then directed his gaze at Rin's own member, hanging flaccid now between his thighs. "In fact, I can't undersand how you manage with it flopping around. What if something came up and just bit it off?" Rin winced, instinctively covering himself. "And how did you expet me to mount you without one?"

Rin brought one hand up to massage a temple while he kept the other covering himself. "Didn't I tell you I'd hex you if you said that word again?" He then frowned, taking in Haru's question. "And—what makes you think _you're_ going to be 'mounting' anyone?" He kept his tone defensive and challenging—since that seemed the best way to deal with Haru. "I'm the one with a _normal_ dick here."

"Mine is perfectly functional," Haru reminded coolly, though Rin was silently amused he didn't refute the accusation of abnormality. He crossed his arms and held his ground, looking just a little ridiculous standing butt-naked in Rin's bedroom demanding he be allowed to 'mount' Rin, whatever that meant. Rin hoped it wasn't some Siren-specific term. 

They were going to have to have this discussion either way, though Rin wondered if it counted as a discussion if Haru refused to bend. He pursed his lips, exhaling in annoyance. "...You really want to be on top _that_ bad?"

"Of course," Haru responded instantly. "It's a drive—don't you feel it?"

Rin shrugged. "Sure, I'm a guy, but...I dunno. It's not a deal-breaker for me." He didn't have any experience either way, so he had nothing to compare. But he also didn't like the idea of Haru being so unreasonable and inflexible on a point like this. "...Is it for you?"

Haru's expression wavered. "...I want to do this with you." That didn't really answer the question, but it told Rin what he needed to know at least, and that would have to be good enough for now. Maybe if Rin didn't get fired for sleeping with a witness, he could convince Haru that turnabout was _very_ fair play.

"Whatever," Rin sighed, sauntering over to the mattress and flopping down on his back with legs akimbo. "Give it your best shot." He'd just make sure his wand was within reach, in case he needed to slap a body-bind on Haru if he wasn't as good as he probably thought he was.

Haru slipped onto the bed after him, almost liquid in his grace, and straddled Rin while holding him down with a hand over his chest. "...You'll enjoy this, I think."

"We'll see..." He let his head slip back onto the soft down comforter, closing his eyes and giving himself over to his other senses. It was times like this that being a Veela was _really_ fucking nice—they were built for pleasure, and the same allure that helped him tempt other susceptible unfortunates equally increased his own enjoyment of any given situation, a self-perpetuating loop that only ended once he'd spent himself. He strained his hearing, listening to Haru's even, measured breaths, and inhaled deeply—he could almost catch that scent Haru had mentioned, the crisp cleanliness of fresh water. Haru's fingers traced over his collarbone, the knobs of his shoulder, the subtle bumps of his ribs and hips—surprisingly gentle, despite the delicate claws tipping each finger. A part of him wondered how Haru was planning on prepping him—and if his fervent attempts to do so might slice Rin open from the inside out. He suppressed an uneasy shudder—which quickly turned into a pleasurable one as Haru's gentle exploration brought him to Rin's dick.

He opened wide to exhale a soft, warm breath over the sensitive puckering skin, and Rin twitched, hips bucking sharply. "Th—that tickles..." he protested breathily, and Haru's pupils contracted to those catlike slits again in response.

"Only tickles?" he prodded, and Rin threw an arm over his eyes to block out the sight.

He felt slender fingers take his shaft in hand, and a long, rough tongue drew a stripe from base to tip and back again, still exhaling those warm teasing breaths over the damp flesh. Rin squirmed, enjoying the foreplay but unsure how long he was supposed to endure these teasing, tantalizing touches. "Get on with it already..." he whined, a bit of irritation in his tone which was not eased by Haru's derisive snort.

"Impatient?"

"You said I'd enjoy this."

"You aren't?"

"I want to enjoy it _more_ ," he pressed, bringing his thighs up to bracket Haru, locking him in as he propped himself up on his elbows. "I've done this kind of stuff before. And it always _stops_ , right before it gets good." He reached forward and traced a finger along Haru's jaw. "I'm sure you could give me great head, and I already know I like kissing you... So show me a sight I've never seen before."

Something flashed in Haru's eyes, dark and predatory, and Rin felt that thrill rush through him again—the one that left him feeling like prey in Haru's sights. Something slick and wet bumped against his inner thigh, and he glanced down between their bodies to see Haru's cock beginning to plump, falling against Rin's. Rin inhaled sharply as the low light glinted off a sheen of lubricant already coating it—fuck, he had a _self-lubing dick_? The whole shaft was covered in some natural secretion that probably made possible the otherwise difficult task of underwater sex. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you...?" he mused, shifting to the side so that their shafts slid together. 

Haru responded by pressing his face into the crook of Rin's neck and placing another insistent bite just where shoulder blended into neck. Rin craned his neck to bare more flesh—it was more than a little bit of a turn-on, given Haru's heritage, and he could always slap a concealer spell over any more obvious marks. Haru's hips gave a gentle roll, trapping Rin's cock alongside Haru's to form a tight channel as they moved together, and Haru continued to nip and soothe with licks, down Rin's neck and along his collarbone. 

Apparently satisfied with his work, he pulled away and arched his back to glance down at himself, propping himself up over Rin with one arm while he used the other to direct his tip. Rin felt a swell of panic as he realized what Haru was about to do. "Wh—whoa, whow whoa whoah, hold up?! You haven't prepped—"

"You don't need it," Haru soothed, voice rough and insistent, and Rin felt like the look in his eyes alone would be enough to keep him down and pliant. "You'll be fine."

"But—" Rin protested, "At least...I mean, I've got some lubricating salve in the nght stand..." He gestured weakly to his bedside table, but Haru just ran his palm tightly over his dick, pulling it away slick with his natural lubricant, and he gently slathered some over Rin for his own peace of mind. Granted, he hadn't really been looking forward to figuring out how Haru intended to stretch him with fingers that could probably skin a fish in two seconds flat, but _nothing_? Just force and power and the faint hope of some distraction? "H-hey...that story, about the sailor who died after sex with a Siren? You were just messing with me, right?"

"Relax," Haru urged, which was laughable—because how was he supposed to relax like this? There were fifty different things he was on-edge about regarding this whole affair, but Haru wanted him to _relax_.

He tried, though; he closed his eyes and let the Veela instincts take over, the parts of him that responded to slick and heat and blunt pain that faded to a dull, mounting pleasure. Haru's tip brushed over his hole a few times before Haru managed to get himself lined up—and slowly began nosing in. The tip went in easily—Haru's shaft was slender and tapered, bulkier at the base and thinner at the tip, so the lack of preparation became less of an issue, initially at least. Maybe he _would_ be fine. The lubricant smoothed the way as Haru eased in further, though remarkably with none of the expected discomfort. Maybe the lubricant had some kind of natural analgesic, for just such situations? Underwater mating probably necessarily meant that the act had to be quick and indelicate.

He exhaled slowly when Haru's thighs brushed his own, finally fully seated, and he swallowed. It hadn't hurt—he _was_ fine. Probably wouldn't be in the morning, after Haru's pain killers washed from his system, but for the time being, he hadn't been split in half. In fact...if he had to say so, it was a tiny bit underwhelming. He'd thought surely it would feel...a bit more _intense_? Was this what he'd been waiting for? What he'd worked himself for?

Haru braced his hands on Rin's knees, centering himself with a breath, then stared down at Rin from under hooded eyes. "Don't come until I say so." Rin wanted to _laugh_ —especially since the command carried that now-familiar tingle of magic that said Haru was trying to Enthrall him—because he was worried he might have to resort to pulling on his own cock in short order to even keep himself interested. He almost wished there _hadn't_ been any pain-killer in the lubricant, as at least he'd be distracted.

Slowly, with great concentration, Haru drew out with an inhalation, then drove back in, repeating the process several more times while Rin just lay back, hands fisted in his comforter. After a few thrusts, though, he was starting to enjoy the experience a tiny bit more; Haru's shaft was brushing against his channel now and then, and that felt a little weird but pretty good, so maybe this wasn't a total wash. It wasn't Haru's fault; his dick was just built to please a Siren female, probably, so he couldn't help it if sex with a human male wasn't really his forte. Maybe after this round, Rin could show him what it was _supposed_ to feel like, and they—

"O— _ah_." Rin spasmed as Haru brushed something particularly nice, and he glanced down in confusion—because it felt like somehow he was getting... _fuller_ , each successive pass opening him wider as Haru's cock filled to pack in tighter. Rin brought his arms up to grip Haru's biceps, fingers digging into the meat as he tried to keep himself centered. "Th—at, Haru...that..." He never got the words quite out, but now he was _sure_ : Haru's shaft had thickened once he'd struck up a rhythm, going in easy and then filling out to form a tight seal that— _shit_ , felt amazingly full and was brushing insistently over sensitive nerve endings.

His thighs tightened against Haru, hips rocking up to urge Haru deeper, and he threw his head back, muttering incoherently into the empty evening air. Haru continued laying dark marks over the bits of exposed skin he could reach, and Rin was torn between the sharp nips of Haru's teeth and pricking bruises of his claws and the ceaseless _pounding_ of his hips—he hadn't been lying, hadn't been overstating things when he'd said sex with a Siren could be intense. Haru's body was slick with sweat now, and his pale skin almost glowed with the sheen, pupils almost invisible as he breathed commands into Rin's shoulder, collarbone, chest, neck not to come, to wait, to hold back and not be drawn under just yet. The uneasy chill of Haru's Thrall rippled through him, lighting a new fire within that burned blue and bright, and Rin gave himself over to the Thrall. It couldn't overpower him, so he let it _em_ power him; he used that Thrall and its magical demands as a base to anchor himself to, to keep from being swept away. And all the while he angled his hips, brought his arms up under Haru's to wrap around his back and urge him deeper, harder, intense and unyielding as the ocean.

Only a few more thrusts, though, and Haru was there—and over, barking a throaty order for Rin to come, to come _now_ , and he complied eagerly, painting their bellies with his release as Haru gave a final powerful punching thrust that made Rin see stars, turning his vision black and blinking before he floated back down. Haru's shaft swelled into a great knot, and warmth filled him, thick and syrupy as Rin drifted down from his high. His chest rose and fell with great breaths as he stared up at the ceiling, waiting for it to finally stop spinning.

Haru collapsed on jelly legs at his side, nuzzling the back of Rin's neck and licking a final little bite he'd bestowed—Rin was going to have a hell of a time making sure he removed them all before work the next morning. He brought a hand to his belly, bringing it away sticky, and made a face—he needed to wipe himself down before the post-orgasm lethargy kept him bedridden. But as he tried to move, Haru wrapped arms around him and held him tight in place. "What th—lemme go," Rin groused with some amusement, slapping at the arms. "I want to wipe down before we turn in..."

"You can't yet," Haru murmured in a voice already thick with sleep. "Gotta wait for the swelling...to go down..."

"Swelling?"

"Mmhmm..." Haru then rolled his hips suggestively, but his cock, still buried inside Rin, refused to budge—the swollen knot locked him firmly in place, and Rin winced as he tried to pull free before Haru hissed in pain and he gave up. "See? Swelling..."

"Y—yeah, I..." He swallowed. "I see... Are we gonna be stuck like this for a while?"

"Little while," Haru muttered, pressing his face against Rin's neck and getting comfortable. "Usually do it in the water... Helps make sure the seed doesn't get washed out before it's been of use..."

"...So your dick's stuck inside me?"

"Full of suprises, right...?"

Rin rolled his eyes, shifting back against Haru and fluffing the pillow under his head. Just outside, he could still hear Tama mewling pathetically. He reached awkwardly for his wand, swiping it to douse the lamps completely, and inhaled deeply. What an evening.

"Y'know," Haru hurmured in the darkness, "You can't Charm me...but I kind of wish you could." 

Rin snorted softly, brushing his fingers over Haru's knuckles, where his arms wrapped tight around Rin's midsection. "It'd make stuff like this easier, wouldn't it?" Haru didn't respond, his breathing growing more even, and Rin smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. "I guess I'll just have to get you hot for me the old-fashioned way."


	7. Chapter 7

Tama’s insistent scratching at the bedroom door roused Rin the next morning, and he winced sourly when the curtains at his window shifted to spill a ray of bright morning light into his eyes. Haru had wound up falling asleep in his bed, as evidenced by the fact that he still had Rin wrapped in a tight grip, with legs entwined and no pants to speak of covering him. At least he didn’t still have his dick up Rin’s ass—in fact, a quick furtive glance showed that it had slipped back into that strange little pouch, leaving him looking like some eunuch Muggle doll.

He shook his head sharply to dislodge the image, then carefully untangled himself from Haru’s embrace, taking pains to be sure he didn’t wake him just yet. He needed some time to collect himself, and a few quiet moments to breathe while reading the morning paper and sucking down a mug of coffee would put him back to rights soon enough.

He toed on a pair of boxers, waddling out into the hall and shooing Tama away from the door. A glance into the kitchen showed there was still plenty of kibble in his bowl and that he’d just been whining out of loneliness, not hunger. “You really _are_ a beast,” Rin muttered with amused irritation, scooping him up in his arms and scritching him under the chin as apology for locking him out all night. “On the bright side, it probably won’t happen again. Or it shouldn’t, at least.”

Tama just purred loudly and rested his chin against Rin’s shoulder, enjoying being pampered. With one arm supporting Tama, Rin used his free hand to open the front door, stepping out to pick up the morning paper waiting in front of his door. The local rag had just hired a new Astrologer for the horoscope section, and while he’d never put much stock in Divination before, he found the rather dire predictions she doled out on a daily basis an amusing read.

“Oh—” Sousuke stepped out to nab his own paper just as Rin was negotiating one-handed unfolding.

“Morning,” Rin mumbled around a mouthful of Classifieds, praying he didn’t rip his copy as he tried to use his teeth to turn the pages.

“Geez, put the cat down and read your paper like a civili— _shit_ , Matsuoka…” The curse was delivered with a hiss as Sousuke shoved Rin’s paper out of the way to get a good look at his chest. “You look like you ran into a nest of pixies! Did that infestation come back? This place is going to crap, we really ought to…”

Rin glanced down, following Sousuke’s gaze—and finally saw himself as his partner did: pale skin pocked with splotches of red and healing bruises, fading evidence of the rather terrible decisions he’d made the previous evening which he was going to try and blame entirely on the thimble of firewhiskey they’d imbibed at the baths. “Oh…damn, I didn’t realize it was that—”

Sousuke tore open his own copy of the newspaper, using the broadsheet to cover Rin’s body as he shoved him back inside his apartment, glancing around furtively. “Dammit, what were you _thinking_?!”

“I could say the same to you!” Rin snapped in irritation, trying not to trip over his own two feet as Sousuke maneuvered him back into his entryway. In his arms, Tama yowled his offense and nearly slashed Rin to shreds trying to get away, until Rin pried him loose and sent him scurrying back into the bowels of the apartment. “A little warning before you manhandle me would be appreciated…”

Sousuke didn’t give him a chance to breathe, though, cornering him with a face flushed with anger. “Are you out of your mind?! You _slept_ with a suspect?!”

“ _Shh!_ ” Rin hissed, glancing out the still-open door to make sure none of their nosy neighbors were eavesdropping with Extendable Ears; that was just what he needed to complete the scene. He reached for the handle to draw the door shut, praying Haru was still abed and not getting an earful himself. “Geez, you don’t have to broadcast it.”

“Why not?” Sousuke huffed. “ _You_ are.” He leaned forward, inhaling, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I can _smell_ him on you now.”

“ _Smell_?” Rin frowned, forcing an incredulous laugh as he took a step back. “Uh, did you get bitten by a werewolf recently and not tell me? Cause we’re gonna need to take a trip down to the registration office, in that case, and—”

“I’m _serious_ —how stupid can you be?!”

“Give me a break,” Rin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not like you’ve never slept with someone you probably shouldn’t have.”

“Sure, but my cases of ‘probably shouldn’t have’ were because they worked under me, or their exes told horror stories—not _because they’re at the center of a murder investigation_.”

“He’s not a suspect,” Rin reminded flatly. “We sorted that out ages ago.”

“Try _not even a week ago_ —and Sasabe never signed off on it, otherwise we’d have no claim to keep him in Tokyo. He’s still officially a suspect—and did you _sleep_ through Care of Magical Creatures class? I get that since you _are_ one, it might be a little boring, but you probably should’ve boned up on Sirens before you _actually_ boned one!”

“Huh?”

Sousuke pointed a finger accusingly toward the bedroom. “Those things mate for life! And they’re jealous, territorial little shits, too!” He poked at one of the red welts on Rin’s neck. “You’d better _hope_ he actually offed the Councillor and has to serve hard time, otherwise you’re gonna be wearing scarves and turtlenecks for the _rest of your life_.”

Rin paled, feeling a bottomless pit form in his stomach— _shit_. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Haru not being a human (or any flavor thereof) meant he was _really not human_. He played by different rules, obeyed different instincts, and would bend to different reflexes.

Rin covered his face and groaned, slumping against his wall. “Uggghhh, dammit… I thought sleeping with a Siren meant I wouldn’t have to deal with this kind of crap.”

Sousuke jerked back, offense sharp in his tone. “ _That’s_ why you did it?”

“No, just—never mind.” Rin waved him off, then ran fingers through his hair as he tried to work out how he was going to resolve this. Haru was a decent guy—and a more-than-decent lay, not that Rin had much of anything to compare it with—but he was going back to his scrummy little pond just as soon as they closed this case, and Rin had already convinced himself it couldn’t happen again. So how was he going to convince _Haru_ that it couldn’t now, when the guy’s own nature would be working against Rin? “I’ll…figure something out…”

Sousuke glared at the closed bedroom door, hackles raised. “…You should shower and get changed at my place; just in case he tries something funny. We can lock him in—for his own protection. Maybe they’ve got some references on how to deal with situations like that down in the Library. We’ll hit it up over lunch.” Sousuke’s sharp, logical mind was firing on all cylinders this morning, as usual.

Rin was already shaking his head, though. “I’ll be fine—I’ve got my wand if things get…out of hand. And we don’t have time to waste trying to figure out how to un-mate me from a one-night stand when there’s still a murderer out there.” He grabbed Sousuke by the shoulders, turning him around and forcing him toward the door. “Now get out; I’ll scream like a maiden in distress if I need you charging to my rescue like the gallant hero you think you are.”

Once he’d finally managed to rustle Sousuke off, he quietly slipped back into the bedroom—where Haru was thankfully still asleep, now spooning Rin’s pillow with a soft, content expression. _God_ , they were going to have to have a talk. Eventually. He’d always thought the whole ‘mate’ thing was a story lovesick witches latched on to because they found the idea romantic: being soul-bound to one person, come what may, until death quite literally tore you apart. The reality of it now, being stuck joined at the ass to a Siren with questionable taste and no sense of humor, was decidedly less rose-colored.

He quickly grabbed his wand from its holster—just in case there was some truth to Sousuke’s concerns—and hopped in the shower, eager to rinse off the remains of the previous evening and greet the morning with a clear focus.

When he stepped out again, refreshed, he was hit by the scent of breakfast simmering, and he cautiously crept into the kitchen, prepared to be jumped when he rounded the corner. But Haru was still Haru—naked but for his apron and totally engrossed in meal prep. Even when Rin sidled up beside him, he received no fawning look of lovestruck fondness, no ‘good morning’ kiss—only stinging fingers where Haru rapped his knuckles when he reached for a strip of thick, fatty bacon and, “Go finish dressing; it’s not ready yet.”

“It’s just bacon,” Rin groused, licking his finger, but a wave of sweet relief washed over him all the same. Haru was normal—or, as normal as Haru came. Nothing had changed. There was no spark of jealousy or possession, no inappropriate physical demonstration of some imagined new bond. It was the same routine they’d enjoyed every morning over the past week.

Maybe it took a while for a bond to settle between mates—maybe they had to do it again. _Maybe_ Rin had to top, to seal it? Damn; now he couldn’t turn the tables even if he’d wanted to tempt fate again!

He bit his thumb in thought, pacing in his bedroom, where he’d retreated for some privacy. He needed to do some research; one false move might have Haru on him in the blink of an eye, shoving a tongue down his throat and wriggling that weird inflatable dick into his ass again.

They could talk that evening—after Rin had had some time to do a bit of research into just how “for life” a lifetime commitment meant. Or maybe he’d call in that favor to Ryuugazaki and see if he couldn’t rustle up a potion or concoction that would undo the very unfortunate choices Rin had made the previous evening.

Breakfast—when Haru finally got around to letting him eat—was inhaled as quickly as possible, and Rin considered just Apparating right from the table, so eager was he to put some space between himself and his ‘mate’. But that might have roused some uncomfortable questions, and the Apparition deck at the Ministry was always more crowded than the Floo hub at this time of morning, so he practiced some restraint, gave Tama another good ear-scratching, and made a break for it while Haru was distracted with washing dishes.

On arriving on the Department floor, he dumped his bag at his desk, waved ‘hello’ to Sousuke so he could see Rin had managed to avoid being pulled into bed for another round, and immediately made his way down to the Archives. He had a few spells scribbled on a scrap of parchment he was meaning to use on the access log to get it to spill its secrets—it was his only lead at this point, after all. He’d briefly considered requisitioning a Time Turner—if he could just stand here and _see_ who had accessed Haru’s file, the case would practically solve itself—but that could take months, if not years of review, and he could easily just end up having his application rejected. Time Turner requisition had gotten difficult in the past few years after some kid in the UK had nearly fucked up the timeline with inappropriate usage.

But two hours of poring over the logbook and trying every revelation spell he could dig up—including a few from _Hilga’s Housewitch Home Remedies_ for uncovering a wayward husband’s dirty little secrets—had him at a dead end.

He slumped back in his chair, massaging his temples—and decided he needed a distraction. Maybe he should focus on that _other_ little issue he was dealing with for an hour or so and come back to the case with a fresh mind. He’d dig around in the library for books on Siren mating behavior, maybe see if Ryuugazaki had a potion on hand that would repel Sirens, and then he’d start wracking his brain for the next point of attack—maybe he’d collaborate with Sousuke on tracking down Kasahara’s known enemies and testing their alibis. Getting people to spill their secrets was his specialty, after all—which did bring to mind the question of why Sousuke hadn’t asked for his help sooner.

He stood in place, stretching with a wince, and rubbed ruefully at his hips—the previous evening’s activities were finally starting to take their toll on his back and ass, and hours sitting in the same position, hunched over a book, hadn’t helped. He signed himself out of the archives, hopping the lift back to his floor, and decided to see if Sousuke wanted to grab lunch—and maybe sneak a few Pepper-up pills while he was at it.

But Sousuke wasn’t in his office—nor was he anywhere to be seen in the bullpen, so Rin decided to help himself to the Pepper-up pills first and apologize with a lunch date later, if he got caught.

The man’s office was an absolute _wreck_ , and given Sousuke’s horrific sense of direction, Rin often wondered if there wouldn’t come a day when Sousuke just got lost in his own office, never to be seen or heard from again. Maybe an intern would come across his mummified corpse centuries in the future and display him in the main lobby as a example of ancient wizarding kind.

Grinning to himself at the thought, he began digging through desk drawers—he recalled Sousuke liked to keep a miniature of firewhisky around here somewhere, which meant he probably had a vial of the Pepper-up pills with it, to keep the Director from getting suspicious if he ever took a mid-day dram. 

Rifling through most of the drawers had been fruitless, turning up nothing but reports that probably should have been filed months ago, outdated issues of dirty magazines with busty witches batting their lashes as they coquettishly offered to ‘polish your wand’, and a set of karmic dice charmed to hex you with a week of bad luck for every winning roll.

He was steeling himself to have to visit the infirmary—where they’d want to know the source of his pain and grill him with fifty questions—when he realized that the final drawer was locked up tight, Sousuke clearly not wanting to share its contents with the world at large. “There we go…” he whispered to himself with a leer, wondering if a nip of the firewhisky would adversely affect the Pepper-up pills.

The drawer proved decidedly difficult to unlock, though, with most of the standard spells failing to so much as budge the mechanism—it was only when he decided to forgo attempting to break the lock altogether, just turning the mechanism to jelly instead, that he finally managed to break inside.

As expected, there were not only a couple of miniatures of firewhisky but also a larger glass jug of some other alcohol, milky translucent and not all that appetizing. He lifted the jug by the handle, turning it around to try and find a label—maybe it was moonshine of some sort, Sousuke’s own recipe?

But as he peered closer, he realized with a sickening jolt that this wasn’t a jug of knock-off Quintin Black or homemade searing sake—these were _memory threads_ , swimming in a slick slurry of pensieve liquid.

Threads of memory, stuffed in a crudely stoppered jar and locked in the bottommost desk drawer in the office of Rin’s very best friend.

Rin swallowed thickly, blood chilling in his veins, and he slowly replaced the jar, forcing himself to take a breath when his chest began to burn in reminder.

“Rin?”

He nearly yelped in shock, standing with a guilty start when Sousuke peered into the office, arms full of a documents he’d evidently been gathering while Rin poked around. “H—ey. There you are.”

“Uh, yeah?” He waved a sheaf of paper. “Every bit of legislature ever drafted on Sirens and other folk that mate for life—plus court cases going back three thousand years. Did you know there was a case on the Aegean peninsula a few hundred years ago where a centaur laid claim to a human woman and tried to force her into his harem—but a court decided she wasn’t obligated to join since as a human, she couldn’t possibly be expected to keep up with the herd if they fled from danger? Maybe you could use that—this Siren’s gonna go back to his little pond eventually, and you can’t survive underwater, so…” He trailed off, cocking his head in confusion. “…What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just—” He gestured to the desk. “I came to find you, thought you might have some Pepper-up pills?” He opted to distract by way of discomfort, adding _sotto voce_ , “My ass is killing me here, and I don’t want to get poked and prodded by the Mediwizards down in the Infirmary…” He drummed his fingers on the desktop. “You wouldn’t happen to have any lying around, would you? Like, I dunno…maybe under that _pristine_ copy of the May 2010 issue of _Slutty Sorceresses Monthly_?” He raised his brows in a leer and flashed a toothy grin—which did the trick, as Sousuke ordered him out of his office promptly, face red in a combination of embarrassment and anger.

He eventually got the pills, purchased by a still-flushed Sousuke from a corner Apothecary, but for the rest of the afternoon, he found himself lost in thought, his focus still back in the bottom right-hand drawer of Sousuke’s desk.

The memories could be anything—maybe not even memories. Maybe the dim light of the office had made strands of gooey mold look like the pearlescent threads stored in pensieves. After all—who would store _memories_ in an old moonshine jug?

But…the drawer had been locked up pretty tight, so maybe they _were_ memory threads? A good pensieve could cost quite a bit, so maybe he just hadn’t invested in one yet. And memories were private things, so of course Sousuke wouldn’t want to leave them just sitting around for anyone to stumble into.

He came up with a dozen different explanations, each more fanciful than the last—but he knew it was a losing battle, that he was trying to convince himself it wasn’t what it looked like. That maybe somehow, some way, Sousuke was involved in this…even though he couldn’t _possibly_ be, because he was _Sousuke_. Sousuke—the guy whose sense of righteousness was practically a sixth sense in its own right, who’d become Rin’s self-appointed bodyguard their first day of school, who choked down the vile, bitter Impersuasion infusion every day with his morning cup of coffee just so Rin could trust that he had one true friend in the world if nothing else.

It wasn’t what it looked like—they were just sensitive memories that Sousuke didn’t want to be burdened with, like maybe a family pet dying, or his first heartbreak. Plenty of people plucked out the darker memories they didn’t want to carry with them but couldn’t bring themselves to Obliviate away. Sousuke was no different.

And Rin was going to prove it.

He resolved that evening to sneak back into the Ministry after business hours. The Talk with Haru would have to wait—this was so much more important than having to learn to live on kelp in a backwoods shack hours away from the nearest Wizarding community. He’d initially worried that Haru would try to broach the topic himself, but other than an uncharacteristic lack of whining to be taken to the bathhouse, Haru’s behavior was quite normal—a bit boring even, as Rin might have appreciated some distraction from his upcoming excursion after lights-out.

Instead, Haru had just curled up on the end of the sofa, pulling out the issue of _Witch Weekly Japan_ he’d teased Rin for owning the evening before and piecing through it with guarded interest. If this was all that being mated for life to a Siren entailed, Rin was starting to think he could probably tolerate it, and perhaps he’d overreacted about the whole thing.

After dinner and reading a few reports he was certain he’d forget the contents of by the next morning, Rin claimed he was turning in for the evening—and any worry that Haru might insist on a repeat performance, or at least try to worm his way into Rin’s bed, was wiped away when all Haru did was mutter a vacant _Night_ , still engrossed in his magazine.

Rin climbed into bed as he’d professed he would, dozing lightly until the ward he’d fixed to Haru’s doorjamb went off, indicating that Haru, too, had finally gone to sleep. Another half hour he passed in quiet stillness, waiting until he could be sure that Haru—and Sousuke—were asleep…and then it was time to act.

Sneaking out of the apartment was easy enough; less simple, though, was dispatching the security wizard detailed to Rin’s building when Haru had moved in. He felt bad for the poor young man—Ohtori? Hatori? Something like that—but he didn’t want to leave a trail, and he couldn’t tip his hand to anyone affiliated with the Ministry yet, so he was forced to leave the wizard knocked out and immobilized in a broom closet in the floo foyer of his building.

The Ministry was dark and deserted by this hour, and the night watch was thin, too spread out to notice an after-hours employee slipping through the shadows bound for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—not when there were dark magical artifacts to guard and sensitive documents to look after.

It was eerie, being on the floor when everything was soft and dark and silent, and Rin made his way to Sousuke’s office with all possible haste, wanting to get this whole affair over with. It felt low, treating his best friend with such suspicion, and he just wanted to move on to more important matters—like trying to figure out how he was going to get Haru that subscription to _Witch Weekly Japan_ it was looking like he was going to ask for as a parting gift.

He’d pilfered a low-budget pensieve from the evidence locker, and while the clay make—rather than silver or at least iron—was less than ideal and made for poor long-term memory storage, it would do for the time being. Rin only needed a quick glimpse, to see that there was nothing of note in the memory threads, and then he’d be on his way.

The lock was back in place, carefully restructured from its gelatin remains. Rin hadn’t been able to reconstruct the spell locking the drawer in place, since he hadn’t known what it was, but he could just apologize to Sousuke for snooping later and explain the truth: that he’d been looking for Pepper-up pills (and maybe a nip of firewhisky). No harm, no foul.

Yanking open the drawer with an effort, he slowly drew out the jug, tipping its contents carefully into the pensieve. He took a breath—after this, he would have truly doubted his best friend. If he genuinely believed that this was just Sousuke’s personal memories, he wouldn’t be doing this. But he didn’t; he _did_ harbor suspicions, dark ones, and now he was going to act on it, indirectly accusing Sousuke of being involved in a murder scheme.

All the same, he had to do this. Even if it made him a terrible friend, he’d rather be a terrible friend than a stupid one—and Sousuke might forgive him being a terrible friend, but he’d never forgive Rin for stupidity, especially for Sousuke’s own sake.

He leaned forward, immersing his face in the shimmering, writhing pool of memories.

* * *

Mud squelched beneath his boots—thick and dark and caking, and Rin winced as he took a step away from what he realized was the edge of a pond. No, not just a pond— _Haru’s_ pond. There was his rickety shack, and his neglected garden. He whipped his head around, trying to get his bearings—a difficult task in the middle of the night—and followed the sound of frantic, hissed voices.

One in particular, he recognized.

“…not going to help; that’s _final_.”

Rin crept around the pond’s edge, keeping to the tall grasses even though he knew logically that this was only a memory—Haru’s memory, in all likelihood—and these visions couldn’t see him, couldn’t interact with him. This was playback, for consumption only, yet still Rin hid, feeling guilty even now for what he was witnessing.

Sousuke stood before him, a ball of _Lumos_ light hanging over his head and casting deep, stark shadows all around. In front of him was a man Rin had never met in person save laid out on a slab for autopsy: Councillor Kasahara. The two were conversing—arguing, really—in low, hushed tones, and Rin crept closer to hear better.

“I think,” Kasahara drawled superiorly, “It will be final when I say it is final—and given that I’ve yet to secure your agreement to my requests, it is decidedly _not_ final. You _will_ aid me in my task, one way or another.”

“You’re going to have to _Imperio_ me if you want my help, then, because you’ll get it over my dead body—or yours, I’m flexible.”

Kasahara tutted softly, shaking his head. “Oh I think we can come to more agreeable terms… You may have a practically spotless record—practically, mind you; I do know about those shady Quidditch bets you made in your formidable years—but I have a talent for knowing _just_ where someone hurts most…where to _press_.” He locked his arms behind his back, strolling around Sousuke in a wide circle. “You brought me out here thinking to intimidate me—and I’d just like you to know that I’ve been around a fair bit longer than you and have been playing this game on more levels than you can imagine for just as long. No, my boy, I know you’re not the type to be blackmailed or bribed—”

“Then I think our business is done.”

“You are, however, quick-tempered…and terribly concerned with the wellbeing of that partner of yours… An interesting pedigree on that one, wouldn’t you say? Now, I’m sure his work associates may have accepted him as one of their own, but I wonder how the public at large would react to knowing a dangerous creature—and one whose own sire had to be put down, such a _tragedy_ —” He shook his head in mock pity, and Rin felt anger flare bright and hot in his chest at the suggestion that his father had been anything but murdered in cold blood. “—is walking amongst them, free as a bird?”

Sousuke’s fists went white-knuckled as he clenched his wand tight. “I warned you already…don’t you fucking talk about him. He’s not your pawn—I won’t let you use him.”

Kasahara ignored the threat. “Or perhaps his sister—I hear she works at a preschool, teaching younglings their runes and sigils. Wouldn’t the parents _love_ to know that their children are being guarded by a werewolf in sheep’s clothing, as it were? Impressionable young things, forced to endure the presence of a temptress! How vile!” He dabbed at his forehead. “And his poor mother…oh my, she’s done quite well for herself, carrying on and managing a successful side-business in light of her… _mate’s_ passing. But would her customers really give her their continued business if they knew she fornicated with dangerous beasts, your own partner evidence of her debauchery?”

Sousuke’s arm whipped out, the speed nearly cracking the tension between them, and he leveled the tip square on the center of Kasahara’s pudgy, pockmarked nose. “Rin. Is not. Your pawn.”

“Neither are you just yet, Yamazaki-san,” Kasahara drawled with a smile, clearly unfazed, and he eased the wand tip away with one finger. “That’s why we’re having this discussion. You _will_ be my man on the inside. I’ll need your ardent support to help me in my campaign for Minister, and you’re the most… _pliable_ wizard in your department. You’ll do as I ask, with no backtalk, or I will _ruin_ Matsuoka Rin. Ruin him, his family, anyone he ever associated with. I have connections, Yamazaki-san—and even half-Veela blood has its uses. No wings, so that’s a pity—one night’s rest on a pillow stuffed with Veela down is said to be the best sleep you’ll ever have. But I’ve heard _marvelous_ tales about the uses of their ejacula—”

A purple jet _whizzed_ from the tip of Sousuke’s wand, striking Kasahara square in the chest and sending him flying backwards, where he skidded a bit over the soggy ground before tumbling into a limp pile of limbs. He groaned softly, gurgling obscenities as Sousuke calmly stalked forward, wand raised. “I told you already… He’s not your pawn. I won’t let you make him unhappy…” He whipped his wand around again, this time in a levitation spell that had Kasahara tumbling through the air, head snapping to and fro in a sickening display.

Rin wanted to call out—to do something to _stop_ Sousuke before he truly harmed the Councillor, but his gut told him that Sousuke already had. No masked murderer was going to step forward from the reeds to take the blame; Haru wasn’t going to rise from his pond to grab the Councillor and drag him under before Sousuke could finish him off. Rin was going to stand here and watch his best friend commit murder, madness and fury mingling in his eyes and dark intent in his actions.

Sousuke brought his wand sweeping down, and the Councillor crumpled into a heap in the mud, helpless and limp as Sousuke grabbed him by the collar. “I won’t let you make him unhappy,” he repeated, a defiant mantra as he used the weight of his body to hold Kasahara down while he shoved his wand down the man’s throat. “Not anymore…”

Rin felt his stomach turn, and before he could stop himself he was reaching out, a cry on his lips of, _”DON’T!”_

* * *

“…Back for more Pepper-up pills? Rin.”

Rin’s world tilted, vision blurring as he was yanked, hard and fast, away from the pensieve. He staggered backwards, crumpling against a filing cabinet, and stared blearily up at a dark figure whose face he couldn’t make out.

Not that he needed to. “Sou…suke…?” he muttered pathetically, still trying to get his bearings; he hated pensieve viewings. They always left him feeling disjointed and a bit sick to the stomach. His mind was still reeling with the images he’d just witnessed: Sousuke and Kasahara meeting on the quiet banks of a distant pond, Kasahara attempting to blackmail Sousuke into working for him, Sousuke reacting to the threats with murderous actions…

He struggled to his feet, shaking his head. “No…no, you…” He pointed accusingly at the pensieve, which still sat on Sousuke’s desk, its murky waters glowing eerily. “What the _hell_ was that? What the…” His features screwed up, and he barely held himself back from screaming. “ _Why_?! Why would you do that?!”

Sousuke laughed—a harsh, rough bark of derision. “Why?” He pointed to the pensieve. “You viewed the memory; you saw what that Siren saw—surely you can _tell_ , can’t you?” When Rin’s expression betrayed only his confusion, Sousuke’s features hardened, and he squared his shoulders defiantly. “…For _you_ , of course. To keep you safe.”

Rin’s brows cinched, his shocked confusion only mounting. “But—you fucking _killed_ someone! Yeah, I saw it: I saw that he obviously wanted you to be his inside man, saw that he was threatening to dig up dirt on me or tell the parents of Gou’s students what she is—which, by the way, they’re required by law to know, so it wouldn’t have been much leverage. And my mom lives in a _Muggle_ town—how many times did I tell you about the crap I had to deal with growing up before I finally got into Mahoutokoro? Kasahara couldn’t have told them about me or Gou or my dad without breaking the Statute of Secrecy.” He fought a wave of dumbfounded disgust, features screwing up as he struggled to process Sousuke’s logic. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

Sousuke’s brows quivered, though didn’t seem to take his explanation to heart, merely reminding in a soft, threatening voice. “I did this for you… He would have ruined you—he was _threatening_ you—”

“And I can take care of myself! I need a friend, not a bodyguard! And _especially_ not—” He grimaced, “—someone who’d murder in my name.” There was something _seriously_ wrong here—Sousuke didn’t _kill_. He had trouble turning witches down for dates, even! And yet Rin had seen it with his own two eyes, had heard the cold detachment in his voice as he flung Kasahara to the ground like a rag doll and forced the Aguamenti charm down his throat. “I don’t get it…” he muttered weakly. “You _knew_ his threats were bullshit; and even if they hadn’t been, a spread in the tabloids sure as hell wouldn’t justify killing someone!” He ran his fingers through his hair—this was bad. This was _really_ bad. Wand-breaking-and-going-to-jail-for-life bad. Banishment-to-an-unplottable-island bad. He moved toward the door to the office. “…We have to tell the Director—we have to tell the _Minister_. Maybe we can—”

But Sousuke took a step to the side, blocking his exit. “No we don’t. And you’re not going to.”

“What the hell are you…” He reached for Sousuke’s shoulder, trying to brush him to the side. “Get out of my way—I’ve gotta clean up your mess now. We’ll come up with some excuse about why you kept quiet all this time, but you’re gonna have to confess or— _hsss_!” He winced in pain as Sousuke whipped a hand out to grab him by the wrist, twisting it up at an angle and rendering Rin powerless. “Let me—go—!”

Sousuke shoved him back against the filing cabinets again, emotions warring on his features—and what _right_ did he have looking all sad-puppy when he’d _killed_ someone and was shoving Rin around his office? “I did what was needed; you and I both know we’re all better off without that asshole around spouting his filth, trying to make life hard for Beasts and Beings and anyone who supports them.”

Rin massaged his shoulder, already feeling a couple of bruises welling up on his bicep. “I never said I was sad to see him gone—but that kind of scum isn’t _worth_ sinking to his level, and that’s what you’ve done! We were supposed to be _partners_ —and now you’ve fucked it all up on some righteous mission! They’ll snap your wand—you’ll lose your job. You’ll be _lucky_ if they don’t lock you up on some unplottable frozen waste of a rock in the Sea of Okhotsk!”

Sousuke just nodded, arms over his chest, and dropped his head. “Yeah… And that’s why you can’t remember this.”

Rin felt a chill ripple down his spine. “…What?”

Sousuke reached into his robes, drawing out his wand. “You don’t understand that I did this for you, that you’re _safer_ now, how much _happier_ you’ll be…and that’s fine. But I can’t let you go, knowing and not accepting.”

Rin started to shake his head, seeing where this was going, “Sousuke….Sousuke no—this…you can’t Modify my memory, I’m Influential. You _know_ you can’t—”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “So this might hurt a little…”

He took a measured step forward, extending his wand to press the tip to Rin’s temple—and Rin froze, breath held for a moment as he waited for Sousuke to fix his concentration on the task, then lashed out with one foot, tangled in his own robes, to knock Sousuke’s legs out from beneath him and send him thudding to the floor.

They grappled in a pile of robes and limbs, and Rin scrambled to his feet, struggling free and charging for the door—but toppled forward when his legs buckled beneath him as Sousuke struck him with a tripping Jinx. He quickly rolled onto his back, drawing his wand with trembling, sweaty fingers and cursing his nerves, but before he could even point it in Sousuke’s direction, let alone summon a spell, Sousuke brought his wand slashing down with a _Diffindo_ , snapping Rin’s wand clean in half and sending the broken pieces clattering to the ground, useless.

“ _No!_ ” Rin rasped in despair, reaching for the pieces with eyes gone wide in horror as he stared at the remains of his wand. The wand he’d been presented with his first day of school, his very last link to his father. The pearly tip of the Veela hair core poked out, exposed to the elements, and without the protective charms of the wand to preserve it any longer, it quickly curled in on itself before shriveling away into dust, gone. He gaped in mute, shocked silence, fingers scraping through the fine sooty dust, and his chest clenched with every emotion of the rainbow.

His wand—his magic incarnate—was useless; the last lingering bits of his father were a splash of grime on the floor that a good _Scourgify_ would quickly eliminate; his best friend was a cold-blooded murderer.

Something pressed against his temple—Sousuke’s wand. “You’ll see it’s for the best. It hurts now, but I’ll help you. I’ll keep helping you, because all I want to do is make you happy.”

Rin closed his eyes, clenched them tight and dropped his head. He didn’t see how he could ever be happy again, after all this—but at least he could be ignorant. And that was a kind of happiness.

But it wouldn’t really be _real_ happiness—and he would feel like something was missing, or off, or _not right_ , because what part of this was right? “…I don’t want your help,” he muttered, voice thick with grief and frustration.

“You’ll have it, regardless. That’s what friends are for,” Sousuke returned, and the tip of his wand grew warm, then hot where it pressed against Rin’s skin, a tiny pinprick brand forming—

 _WHAM_ —the door to the office shattered open, nearly unhinged entirely as Haru charged through, gaze frantically tracking for Rin. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he saw Rin’s state, before going hard and cold, flaring in anger as his pupils narrowed to slits. Sousuke turned on him in a flash, pulling his wand away from Rin, just as Haru opened his mouth—

But before the words of power perched on the tip of Haru’s tongue could Enthrall, Sousuke shouted a sharp _Silencio!_ and sent a jet of energy buzzing over Haru, robbing him of the only true power he could wield here in the narrow confines of Sousuke’s office.

It was distraction enough, though, and Rin scrambled to his feet, charging Sousuke with what remained of his strength and tackling him. He slammed him against the far wall, driving a punch into his stomach to wind him, and when Sousuke gasped in pain, doubling over, Rin snatched up his wand. Using another’s wand was never an easy task, especially since he hadn’t won it from Sousuke in a proper duel, but at least it would respond to his commands as a fellow Ministry employee, and he drew himself upright, pointing the wand at Sousuke’s chest and gritting out _Incarcerous_ to bind him tight.

Thin threads of binding rope jetted forth, snaking around Sousuke’s midsection and squeezing until he nearly went blue in the face. Rin was breathing hard, hair a mess and skin vibrating with the effort, and after sweeping a quick glance over Sousuke to be sure he couldn’t wriggle free, he rushed to Haru’s side, removing the silencing charm with a soft _Finite Incantatem_ and rubbing Haru’s back soothingly as he recovered.

He didn’t know how Haru had known where to find him—had he followed him? Or was this some Siren mating magic bond? They really _were_ going to have to have that talk—but he didn’t honestly care at the moment, just muttering a feeble mantra of, “Thank you…thank you…” appalled that for a moment he’d actually _wanted_ the blessed release of Sousuke yanking out the memories of the last twenty-four hours. “Are you all right?”

Haru just nodded, glaring at Sousuke from under hooded, suspicious eyes, then swallowed thickly and turned the question back on Rin: “…Are you?”

“No…” Sousuke answered for him, voice strained as he struggled to right himself against the wall. “He’s not… Because you screwed everything up…” He laughed dryly. “Shoulda killed you too… Should’ve… _Evanesce_ d you into nothingness…” He winced, breath catching. “You can’t make him happy… You can’t…”

Rin drew himself up, Sousuke’s wand clenched white-knuckled in his fist, and he dragged his feet to stand before Sousuke’s limp form. His hair was all askew, his complexion pale, and his eyes couldn’t seem to focus, darting over Rin’s body with a manic glee and a bit of guarded terror, like a wild animal. It was hard not to pity him—until he remembered why it was Sousuke’s wand in his hand and not his own. Then it was hard not to call down an Unforgivable just to give his anger an outlet. “…You…” He took a breath, shaking his head and willing his lips to stop trembling. “ _Why_ , dammit? Why would you do this? To _us_? To everything we stand for?”

“For you, for you…” He lifted his brows hopefully, entreating Rin even now. “For _you_ , for—”

“ _Stop_ —just, stop it! Stop _saying_ that! I don’t want this to be _for me_ , I don’t want your protection!”

“But he would’ve—”

Rin whipped the wand forward, leveling it at Sousuke’s nose. “I don’t fucking _care_ what he ‘would’ have done. You can’t kill someone because of what they _might_ do. You—” He cut himself off mid-sentence, brows drawing together in suspicion, and his hand fell away, dropping back to his side, limp. “…And you wouldn’t. You don’t act rashly—you don’t have a temper. That’s _me_. Why would…” He clenched his hands into fists again; nothing about this made _sense_. “Why would you go overboard like this? _Why_ —”

“He deserved it!” Sousuke snapped, anger flashing in his eyes, and he strained at his bonds. “He _deserved_ it, and you know it! He was a horrible, petty little man who would have stripped everyone with even a _trace_ of non-human blood in their veins of all their rights. You wouldn’t be able to _look_ at a wand, let alone— _I DID THIS FOR YOU!_ ” His rage spent itself in an explosion, sending Rin backing up a few measured steps even though he presently held all the power between the three of them, and Haru was instantly alert and tense, gaze fixed on Sousuke.

Rin swallowed, letting the ranting die away as Sousuke shrank in on himself again; this was going nowhere. Sousuke wouldn’t be moved from his claim to have turned murderer for Rin’s sake, despite never having shown violent tendencies before. Why, after all these years, would the mere prospect of public scandal—a scandal for _someone else_ —set him plotting murder? An Imperius curse? Blackmail beyond that Rin had glimpsed in the pensieve?

A hand touched his arm, calling his attention, and Haru drew up alongside him, still watching Sousuke with that wary, calculating gaze. “…Let me ask.”

Rin’s heart did a little double-beat; he was asking for permission to Enthrall Sousuke, to force the truth—or at least his idea of the truth—from him. By all rights, now was not the time to do so, and Rin could be brought up on charges for allowing it. It was one thing to use his own Charm in the course of an investigation, but it would take a lot of convincing to justify allowing an unlicensed civilian (and a non-human one at that) to participate in an interrogation.

He needed to know, though; he couldn’t leave here, couldn’t hand Sousuke over without _knowing_ first. “…Ask.”

Haru gave the subtlest of nods, gliding forward and crouching down on one knee to lock eyes with Sousuke, who tried to look anywhere but at the Siren before him. It wouldn’t help, though; Haru didn’t need eye contact to work his magic, and Rin could feel the familiar tingle of Influence when Haru’s voice murmured softly, “…Tell me why you murdered the Councillor.”

Sousuke’s eyes lost focus, and his voice took on an eerie softer edge, less frenetic and manic and utterly out of place given the situation. “For Rin. I did it to make Rin happy. Kasahara wanted to harm him—”

“He _couldn’t_ , you fucking idiot!” Rin snapped, frustrated beyond measure that even under Haru’s Thrall, the guy was still clinging to this idea that he’d done murder for altruistic tendencies.

Sousuke ignored him, though, still compelled to explain himself. “—so I did everything I could. I just wanted to make him happy. I did it for him, to make him happy.”

_did it for him_

_make him happy_

__Suddenly, Rin stopped hearing Sousuke's blathering through the filter of a friend betrayed and started hearing the words themselves. Started hearing them in the context of coming from a man who'd never historically shown any violent tendencies. A man who was close companions with a Veela.

He felt the blood drain from his face, and his voice was weak when he spoke next: "Haru...ask him..." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Ask him...if he got a raven from Ryuugazaki in Potions, Draughts, and Infusions. Ask him...if he's been drinking his Impersuasion infusion."

Haru related the question, and Sousuke responded in that blank, even tone, "I received his raven. But if I'd stopped taking my infusion, it would have made you sad. So I kept taking it."

Rin closed his eyes, cursing internally and longing to just blast something to smithereens to be _rid_ of this excess anger and frustration building up inside. There was a frown in Haru's tone when he asked, "Rin? What's wrong...?"

He smiled wryly, releasing a thin, dry chuckle that echoed off the thin walls into the darkness. It was the best response he could muster to the way everything had just gone to shit, and what else was there to do but laugh when you'd ruined three people's lives in one fell swoop? "...He's right. It _is_ all my fault."

* * *

Ryuugazaki's team's analysis confirmed Rin's suspicion, hours later: Sousuke had been taking the Impersuasion infusion for _years_ , and on a daily basis too, far more frequently and longer term than such potions were meant to be consumed. When the soured batch had been introduced into his system, rather than causing the relatively mild adverse event of an upset stomach as it had in others, the whiplash effect—going from no suspectibility to Veela to raw, uninhibited obsequience—had severely undermined any latent resistence to Veela allure, kicking Sousuke's reactions into overdrive. His response to Rin's Charm had been amped up several dozen-fold, to the point where even murder had been justified in his mind, if it meant making Rin happy. 

And Rin hadn't noticed at all. He'd brushed off the little flares of jealousy as normal behavior—had even _enjoyed_ it on some level, because Sousuke had always been the one person he could be honest around and expect such honesty in return. When he gave Rin attention, when they casually flirted, when they teased or when they just kicked back with a couple of butterbeers and a Quidditch match, it was because Sousuke truly wanted his companionship. So he'd ignored the signs; ignored them because he hadn't wanted to see them as anything more than what he hoped.

The one person Rin had assumed would always stay immune to his Charm had succumbed to it in the worst possible way—and Rin had brought him to it. Sousuke had just been doing what Rin's Charm had forced him to: going to outrageous lengths in order to please the object of his ill-targeted affections, no more to blame than a schoolboy belting out an off-tune ballad when under the influence of a street-corner love potion. 

Perhaps out of compassion, or perhaps because he knew Rin would need some time to collect himself, Sasabe had turned Rin loose as Ministry officials swarmed the Department offices at his summons. "Take the morning, and be back in to give your statement by noon." He'd nodded to Haru here, adding, "And bring Nanase with you, we'll need to get him signed out for release after we've taken both your accounts." Not for the first time, Rin desperately wished they could just remove his memory and be done with it. They could keep the threads for trial, and Rin would be free from having to remember it. But that was the easy way out, and he didn't deserve it, after what he'd done to Sousuke.

Sasabe had tried to cheer him up, reminding that if Sousuke had committed murder under outside influence, then he had just as much right to claim defense as someone forced to do ill under an Imperius or other spell meant for manipulation. He hadn't been in control of his full faculties, and he'd likely see at worst ten to twelve months in a facility where he could dry out, build up his resistence again, and integrate back into society. He couldn't—and wouldn't—be held accountable for his actions.

Rin knew, though, that Sousuke would never testify as such, because then the question would follow: _whose fault was it?_ And the answer was _Rin_. Rin's Charm, Rin's Veela heritage, Rin's genetic makeup that required anyone who wanted to be around him, uninfluenced, to chug down a bitter potion daily. Sousuke wouldn't choose his own freedom over Rin's, stupidly self-sacrificing to a fault.

They took the Floo back to the apartment, trudging up the stairs, and Rin felt stomach-churning bile burning away at him when they passed Sousuke's apartment—door thrown open with Ministry witches and wizards streaming in and out, capturing images for evidence and taking samples for later analysis. One wizard was transferring a half-empty case of bottles of Impersuasion infusion into a crate for transport, marking it _EVIDENCE_ in bold. Haru's hand at his back guided Rin forward, past the display, and it was only after crossing the threshold and being met with the familiar, comforting greeting of Tama's plaintive mewling that he felt the tiniest bit better.

Here, cocooned away from the chaos of his life falling apart, he could breathe, collect himself, and soak in the quiet familiarity of his one corner of his reality that hadn't yet been _Scourgified_. He bent down to scoop Tama into his arms, and Haru brushed past into the kitchen to check his food bowl. 

He wandered, mute and shell-shocked, into the den and flopped down on the couch. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd been fending off Haru's amorous advances; it felt like a lifetime ago. He'd never get to argue Quidditch tactics with Sousuke again—or pretend he knew much about those tactics—never get to take an informant out for a fancy lunch and put it on the Ministry's tab, just to piss the Director off, never get to remind Sousuke for the tenth time that no, he wasn't going to set him up with Gou, because he still wasn't buff enough yet for his little sister's tastes, no matter how many bulking potions he mixed in with his morning coffee. 

Tama purred softly, curling up in Rin's lap and accepting his distant, listless ministrations until Haru wandered in, two mugs of warm pumpkin juice in hand, and shooed him away. "Here; you should drink something."

"Does it have any alcohol in it?" Rin muttered, taking the proffered mug. He couldn't be Obliviated or have his memory modified, but at least some Firewhisky might help him sleep.

Haru didn't respond, just settling in beside Rin and nursing his own mug. Rin glanced at him sidelong, noticing only now that he'd suffered a bruised cheek in the scuffle and had dark bags under his eyes. He reached out, gently brushing a finger over the fading welt—and Haru winced, flinching away and frowning. "I can fix that for you," he explained.

Haru regarded him for a moment, then shook his head. "It will heal in time. You shouldn't try to use magic to solve all your problems."

"It's just a bruise," Rin maintained, a flash of offense rising up. "Why should you suffer when you could easily just..." He trailed off, though—because Haru was right. Rin had just lost his best friend because he'd convinced himself he'd never know if someone really liked him for _him_ without magic. Sousuke would never have taken the potion if Rin hadn't been Veela, would never have resorted to this if Rin hadn't wanted to be his friend... He closed his eyes and took a sip of the brew. "...He took the potion for me." Haru stayed silent, perhaps just letting Rin talk himself hoarse. Or perhaps because he agreed. "I'd always wanted a friend I could trust liked me as a person—not as an object. Someone who wanted to be close to me just because I was a nice guy and not because they felt compelled to try and please me... Because I didn't want to be alone. I made him do this."

"...You're contradicting yourself. You just said he took the potion for you."

"Yeah, but—I _wanted_ it." He turned to Haru, knuckles white as he clenched the mug tight. "What if—what if this _whole thing_ is my fault? What if the only reason he started taking the Impersuasion infusion was to please me? It made me happy, after all, finally having a friend—he never would've taken it if I hadn't wanted him to. Right?"

He just wanted someone to say _yes_. _Yes_ , this was all his fault. _Yes_ , he'd ruined lives. Right now, it felt like he was just beating himself up, with everyone treating him with unicorn-hide gloves as if fearful he might shatter if mishandled. He wanted _just one person_ to take a good swing at him. Make it hurt. Make him feel _something_ , instead of just...empty and cold.

"Maybe," Haru allowed, tone even and unapologetic. "Maybe he took it that first time, because you Influenced him. Maybe you didn't realize it, and maybe neither did he. But—" He reached forward and set the pumpkin juice on the table before them. "Even if that were the case, the effects wouldn't last past the first dose. He made the choice himself to continue. Maybe this is all your fault—but that doesn't mean you're to blame."

Haru was probably right, but it wasn't quite the gut punch Rin had wanted. He took a draw on his pumpkin juice. "...Sasabe said to tell you that you're free to go, as soon as they get a statement from you about what happened with Sousuke tonight. We'll head back to the Ministry tomorrow afternoon, get your paperwork sorted, and then I'll Apparate you back to your pond and see that everything's set to rights again."

Haru took a moment to process this. "...What will happen to Yamazaki?"

"Hm?"

"I...don't really know how the law works in your world—"

"It's _your_ world too, you know. Even if you're not that involved in it." That hadn't been the point, though, and he was just being contentious, trying to start a fight if only to have something to distract. He sighed. "...I dunno, actually. They'll arraign him soon, sometime tomorrow I expect—just so they'll finally have their headline. The press will go crazy—Sousuke might have been trying to prevent a scandal, but now he's just made it _way_ worse. He'll probably be tried in another couple of weeks, since I expect the higher-ups will want to fast-track a conviction—and our reports will help put him away."

"Put him..." Haru repeated blankly. "But—he didn't do it on purpose. The potion—it impaired his resistance to your Charm, and he couldn't control himself. Surely your people won't punish him for something he didn't mean to do."

"They wouldn't—but they're going to have to, because Sousuke won't plead impairment. He'll plead guilty, take all the blame himself, because doing otherwise would mean testifying that _I_ was the reason he murdered, that _I_ am a dangerous creature. I don't know what would happen to me then—and neither does Sousuke. But he won't take the chance."

Silence settled between them, and Rin tried to imagine the coming few months: Haru back in his pond, serving up omuraisu and flapjacks to local customers at his cafe, Sousuke rotting in a cell in threadbare robes waiting for his next hearing with a void of self-loathing eating away at him, Rin trying to regain the rhythm of his life but never quite succeeding, jumping from partner to partner until Sasabe eventually just had to put him on permanent desk duty until his skills were needed. He couldn't stay cooped up in this apartment forever, comfortable in this bubble of familiarity. Eventually he was going to have to go back and be a part of this new world he wanted nothing to do with. There was _nothing_ out there for him now; _nothing_ —

"So don't give him a choice."

Rin's head snapped up, brows drawn. "...What? Who?"

"Yamazaki. You use your Charm when it's justified, right? You take away free choice for the greater good, do what's best for everyone involved. It isn't ideal...but it's necessary at times. If you're truly confident you can weather the fallout of Veela charm resulting in murder—then don't give him the chance to take the blame himself. Ignore what you think he would want and explain what truly happened. Deal with him being angry with you later. Would you rather he be angry and free, or keep his pride behind bars?"

"Free, of course..." Rin mumbled, still processing Haru's suggestion. "But—he'd never forgive me."

"Will you forgive yourself, then?"

Rin winced; Haru's tone hadn't been accusing, but he couldn't honestly say that he felt he'd ever really be able to absolve himself of the guilt, knowing that the simple act of friendship had ruined a life he treasured. He could do it, of course: Sasabe wanted to, after all, and he wouldn't be shy about using the Department's weight to protect one of its own. But even in the best case scenario—Sousuke being acquitted, Rin _not_ being locked up as a dangerous Beast—they would almost certainly never be allowed to see each other again, or at least never be left alone. There'd be months, if not years of therapy to wean Sousuke off of the Impersuasion infusion. He was never going to get his friend back—not the way they were before. It was _over_ , things would never be the same again; he'd never run into Sousuke in the lobby to Floo into the office together, never fall asleep on his couch and drool all over his cushions, no more birthdays together, no more Hallowe'en galas to chaperone, no more—

His chest clenched, emotion thick in his throat because why the _fuck_ did he have to lose _so much_ all at once? Why couldn't he keep just _one thing_? He could deal, if it was _just_ Sousuke's ordeal or _just_ losing the final connection he had to his father or _just_ going back to living alone with no one to talk to or be himself around, but it was _all of that at once_ , and he couldn't do this, he couldn't _do this_ alone. The lump in his throat clawed its way out of his mouth in a choking moan that he quickly stifled by covering his mouth and turning away, but then his eyes started to burn, and when he clenched those shut, traitorous tears began leaking out. Now he was going to be alone _and_ a pathetic crybaby; who dealt with emotional turmoil by bawling like a damn child? Matsuoka Rin, apparently—because here he was, choking back sobs and crying like a Mandrake. 

Something wet and rough brushed over his cheek, laving a stripe up to his eye, and Rin started with a huff, flinching and bringing his hand up to his cheek. "What the—did you just _lick_ me?" Haru's tongue slipped back into his mouth, and he pulled away with a shrug. Rin rubbed at his cheek, grimacing. "That's gross—don't lick my tears."

"Why not?" Haru cocked his head. "Last night I licked your—"

" _Enough_ ," Rin barked, but the gesture had at least stopped his crying jag, and he took a few deep breaths to center himself. He couldn't focus on how shitty his life was about to get—it wasn't doing anyone any good. "Just—I'm _allowed_ a little emotion, all right? I did just ruin at least three people's lives in the past few days, including my own."

Haru settled back onto his side of the couch, twiddling his thumbs boredly. "...So are you going to be done with this soon? It's quite annoying."

Rin blinked, not processing the wording. "Done...? With—huh?"

"This pity party you're throwing. If you're going to keep doing it, I'm still not done with my magazine, so I'm just going to go read until you're done." He shifted forward, rifling through a stack of papers and parchment on the table, evidently searching for the magazine, and Rin felt iritation flash hot and bright in his chest, dispelling the lump of emotion that had been lodged there.

"The _hell_? I'm sitting here pouring out my—"

He finally found the magazine, tugging it out and flipping forward a few pages. "It's not your fault, you haven't lost your friend forever, and you aren't going to be fired. It will probably be difficult, yes, and it will never be the same—but that's what happens. You can lament that it's happened so quickly and that you weren't expecting it—but anything else and it's just annoying having to listen to." He let the magazine fall flat in his lap, looking Rin in the eye. "You're going to work hard and clear Yamazaki of malicious wrongdoing, you're going to deal with the fall-out, and you're going to stop being a crybaby about it because it won't solve anything."

Rin felt his cheeks pink in shame. "I'm not a _crybaby_ —" Except he totally was, and even if he enjoyed finally having someone calling him on his crap, did Haru have to be so _sharp_ in his delivery? "And I've had a pretty _crappy_ week, so would you mind cutting me some slack?"

Haru snorted derisively, turning back to his magazine. "Yes, because my week has been just lovely."

"Sorry," he muttered reflexively, then after pausing a moment in thought, he added, "It hasn't been _all_ bad, though...has it?"

Haru didn't look up from his magazine, idly flipping to the next page. "It's not polite to fish for compliments."

"I wasn't—" But he cut himself off, realizing the direction the conversation had taken. He really wasn't in the mood or any mental state to discuss this...but Haru would be leaving the next day, so it was now or never. "Hey, uh...can I ask you something?" Haru didn't respond either way, so Rin pressed ahead. "I heard from—well, I heard that..." He swallowed, picking at a thread unraveling from one of the cushions. "That—Sirens, they uh...m-mate? For life. Like, long-term stuff, only one partner..." Words fled him when Haru slowly turned his head to face Rin, one slender brow raised in challenge. "Just...wondering how that's...gonna work..."

"...How _what_ would work?"

"Well, we—you know, and it was nice, though I really would've appreciated a heads-up about the whole...dick situation..." His face actually _burned_ , so flushed was he. "Anyway, you're going back to your place and your job, and I'm gonna be here trying to sort out this mess, and...well. Again—just wondering how that's going to work..."

Haru's gaze narrowed in suspicion, and after what seemed like an interminably long time, he finally asked, "...Do you think we're mated for life or something?"

Rin stiffened, hope and anxiety warring at once in his chest. "I...I mean, that's what I _heard_ so...?"

Haru's brows furrowed, and an expression of faint disgust flickered across his features. "That only happens between two Sirens. Have you spent the last twenty-four hours thinking we shared some special bond between a mated pair?"

And when Haru put it _that_ way, it sounded really stupid and fanciful. "Oh..." Relief flooded his system, sapping his energy as he came down from a worried high, and he wanted to just sink into the cushions and disappear altogether. But quickly and unexpectedly, on the heels of the relief, flowed a wave of disappointment, its source unknown, and he laughed uneasily, "...Well, it would've been kinda romantic, don'tcha think?" Haru's furrowed brow said he couldn't tell if Rin was being serious or not—and honestly, Rin couldn't tell either. This did bring up a new question, though: "Wait, then...how did you find me?"

"Find you?"

"How did you know where I was, to come and save me when Sousuke was..." He trailed off, abandoning the explanation. "Did you follow me or something?"

Haru regarded him warily for a moment, gaze swiping over Rin's body from head to toe, and then he leaned in close, tucking his head just into the crook of Rin's shoulder and inhaling deeply. "...Followed your scent."

"My—scent...?" Was Haru part werewolf, too?

"Or rather... _my_ scent." He pulled away, crossing one leg primly over the other and going back to his magazine. "Our sense of smell is quite keen, and I marked you inside and out. Just in case."

"Just in..." Rin lifted an arm, sniffing experimentally—before Haru's meaning about _my scent_ hit him like an Impediment jinx, and his cheeks flushed anew. "You—that was..." He squirmed uncomfortaby. "But—I took a shower! I scrubbed every _inch_ of me!"

Haru didn't look up. "What makes you think _water_ could remove a Siren's scent from you?"

"Then—what _can_?"

Now Haru glanced up from his magazine, frowning suspiciously. "...Why would you want to? Weren't you just going on about how mating for life was so very romantic?"

"Well yeah—but it's...complicated. Ideas are romantic...reality, usually less so." Particularly Rin's reality of late. 

"...I don't follow," Haru confessed. "First you seemed worried we might be joined by some unbreakable bond, then you seemed disappointed to find out we never could be—and now you're concerned I've made a compromise?"

"Stinking of you is a _compromise_?"

"I don't _stink_ ," Haru protested shortly.

Rin rolled his eyes, slumping back against the cushions and brushing down his robes. "No...you don't." He sighed to himself. "Ignore me; I don't even make sense to myself right now. I'd offer to give you a crash course in Veela-crossbreed sexuality quirks, but...it's probably better we don't get attached." He offered a wry smile. "You're gonna be heading back to your teeny tiny little pond, and I'm gonna be keeping a low profile and hoping the Ministry doesn't toss me to the werewolves just to save their asses." He tugged the collar of his robes to his nose, inhaling sharply. "Maybe I can Scourgify them clean...oh."

"What?"

"Nothing, just..." He forced a self-deprecating smile through the grimace he wanted to give. "I forgot I can't do any spells until I get a new wand..." He clenched an empty fist, already missing the weight and heft of his wand. "I'll hit up a nice little shop in Ametatecho after I see you off tomorrow." It wouldn't be the same—not by a long shot—but the core was ruined, and repaired wands never worked as well as before anyway. If he kept his job at the Ministry, there would be no way he could justify working with a defective wand, nostalgia or no. 

"You can just replace your wand? That simply?"

Rin winced. "It's not _simple_ , really... You've gotta find one that responds to you, and cores can be really picky if they don't resonate with you or respect your powers. I may have to try a few different shops before I find one I click with."

"Will your new wand have another Veela hair?"

"No," Rin shook his head. "It's a really rare core to begin with, usually shared between family members, and well...the family member I got mine from isn't exactly around to donate another."

Haru nodded his understanding, then glanced down at his palm, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times before extending his hand to Rin. "...Can you use this?"

"Huh?" In Haru's palm lay several sloughed-off scales, still shimmering with an opalescent glow and radiating raw power Rin could feel if he focused hard enough. "...Scales?" Haru nodded. "Siren scales..." He didn't know a witch or wizard in the Ministry using such a core—and there was no guarantee that a wand fashioned with a Siren scale core would accept him or instead be just as finicky and difficult to master as its donor. He regarded Haru warily. "You're...giving me some of your scales? To use in a wand?"

Haru shrugged. "If you _can_ use them—and want to, of course. Your last wand meant so much to you, I thought maybe you'd feel better if the new one had a core you recognized as well." He tipped his hand over, letting the scales flutter down into Rin's open palm. 

He didn't know why, but he kind of felt like crying again, and he gently closed his fingers over the scales, drawing his hand to his chest and ducking his head in gratitude. "...Thanks. Thank you..." And he _meant_ it. Haru probably didn't understand the magnitude of what he was offering—but when a wand core was freely offered itself like this, when it _recognized_ the wizard innately...well, it was a big deal. A far greater well of power would be accessible than with an off-the-rack wand; it necessarily involved more responsibility, too, a sort of unspoken contract now existing between the witch or wizard and the creature whose material powered their wand. "...I'll use it wisely."

"See that you do," was Haru's terse response, and he quickly glanced away, Rin's embarrassment evidently catching based on the sheen of pink tinting his cheeks. "Now we're even. For the robes. And—" He actually _fidgeted_. "The scent will fade in a week or so; you shouldn't notice it."

"Ah...oh. Okay." He clenched his fist tighter, clinging tight to what was fast becoming the only link he'd have left to Haru when this was all over. But Haru had his own life to get back to, and Rin had his, and just because Rin didn't have a best friend anymore, it didn't give him license to drag a Siren perfectly happy in his little pond kicking and screaming into the modern Wizarding world to play house, let alone consider pressing for anything deeper. He nodded. "Good to know." He couldn't get attached, not any more than this; he probably shouldn't even use the scales—they'd just be a nagging reminder of what he'd had and lost.

Haru snapped the magazine shut, tossing it onto the table with a loud _whap_ and setting Tama's tails poofing like twin bottle brushes. He stood, rounding the couch, and announced, "...I'm going to bed." He didn't leave, though, just stood there with one hand along the spine of the couch, watching Rin, as if waiting for him to make a decision.

He received his response shortly when Rin nodded, "...Yeah, it's been a long day," waving to Haru as he retreated to his room with, "Get some sleep; we're due back down at the Ministry by noon."

Rin told himself that the gaze he felt falling heavy and prickling on his back was just his imagination.

* * *

The following afternoon, their statements given, Rin looked on as Haru signed off on what felt like a mountain of paperwork—consisting largely, Rin suspected, of promises not to bring legal action against the Ministry for effectively keeping him prisoner for upwards of a week. He was to be compensated financially for his trouble as well, though Rin wondered what Haru would do with Wizarding money when he had no use for it in his tiny Muggle town. When they had finally reached the bottom of the stack—an invoice for the robes Rin had treated him to—Sasabe shoved the papers into a folio, tied it off, and summoned a pair of ravens to fly it off to the appropriate parties for filing. 

"Matsuoka, we'll handle yours after we've finished with Nanase here." He raked Rin over with a calculating glance, then added, "...Yamazaki's still down in holding, separate from the riff-raff of course. If you wanted to check on him, I could probably—"

"That won't be necessary—or wise, sir." He tried to hold himself up straight, pretending as best he could that the offer didn't feel like a gut punch. "I'm sure my presence can only exacerbate the...situation."

Sasabe nodded. "Likely. I just didn't want you to think me an ass for not offering. Not your fault this happened, after all—and we'll make sure the Wizengamot knows that." He turned to Haru now. "Nanase, your memories will, of course, be returned to you upon the trial's conclusion. Typically, I'd just see they were returned immediately and have you called as a witness at the trial, but well...you being a Siren and all, that could get tricky."

Rin straightened. "So...there _will_ be a trial? Sousuke didn't confess?"

"Confess? Well sure, he's maintaining that he did it for you still—nearly screamed himself hoarse with protests before we finally put him down for the evening with a sleep spell—but you know as well as I this was all because the Potions Department screwed up royally. You ask me, it's Ryuugazaki and his lackeys that oughta be locked up." He narrowed his eyes at Rin. "...You're saying you _expected_ him to confess?"

Rin shrugged. "...It's Sousuke. You expected him to blame someone else for something he did?"

Sasabe waved him off with a sharp _bah_. "You've got way less spine than I credited you for if you were gonna let him fall on his own wand like that. He's an innocent man who got dealt a shitty hand thanks to a potion we didn't understand well enough and a Muggle crop duster who missed his target. It's not his fault—and while we're at it—" He shook a finger in Rin's face, "—it's not _your_ fault either. So don't even _think_ about making any idiot moves when they put you on the stand. The Ministry knew what it was getting when it hired you, and it'll stand by its own and defend them to the best of its abilities. Yamazaki included."

Rin could have protested, could have insisted that Sousuke be allowed to choose his own defense...but he held his tongue, shamefully grateful to have the decision taken from him. "...I appreciate their support. I can't imagine I'm going to become very popular with...certain groups...when this all goes public."

Sasabe settled back down into his chair with a sigh. "No, Matsuoka, you are _not_ going to be very popular. Infamous, perhaps, but popular? No, afraid not."

Rin winced. "I...understand, it's quite a lot to expect the Ministry to endure. If it would help, I'm...prepared to take leave, or resign even; I'll help with the trial in any way I ca—"

"Pipe down, Matsuoka," Sasabe muttered, drawing another folder from his inbox and leafing through its contents. "You're not quitting, and you're not getting fired. No, I'm not only going to risk the wrath of every armchair anti-Beaster by keeping you on staff, I'm going to do one better..." He glanced up at Haru, motioning him forward and passing him the folder. "One more item for you to look over, Nanase."

Rin frowned, watching carefully as Haru glanced through the paperwork, his anxiety only growing when Haru's expression grew confused. "...What? What is it?"

Sasabe didn't respond, only meeting Haru's questioning gaze with a nod. "If you want it."

"If he wants _what_?" Rin demanded, reaching for the folder, but Haru pulled it away, elbowing him aside.

"I'll need your verbal agreement, Nanase. A simple up or down yes-no will do to get the ball rolling. But I'll need it promptly—I'm afraid no position in the Ministry of Magic remains vacant for long."

Vacant position? _Fuck_. "Wait—no—"

"Yes," Haru replied shortly, grabbing for the quill he'd just replaced in an inkwell and scrawling his signature over the hiring contract Sasabe had prepared for him. Rin whipped the paper away before the ink was dry, paling in shock as he scanned the writing—they'd _hired Haru to work in Rin's department_. Nanase Haruka was officially an employee of the Japanese Ministry of Magic.

"Excellent. I can't say I'm at all pleased with how things have worked out, but you'll be a valuable addition to the force while we work to clear Yamazaki's name and get him on the road to recovery."

"Director!" Rin protested, glancing back and forth between Sasabe and Haru in horror. "Are you—this is—you _can't_ do this!"

"Last I checked, I'm the Director of this department, and I can fill position vacancies as best I see fit."

"But—" He pointed accusingly at Haru. "He's a civilian! He hasn't been trained anywhere, he doesn't even _own_ a wand."

"I didn't hire him for his wandwork." He quirked his brows deviously. "Veritaserum's a tightly regulated little commodity...but there's nothing saying I can't ask a Ministry employee, in the course of an investigation, to use _every_ means necessary to prise information from a suspect, now is there? No, I think Nanase-san will prove a valuable asset, given his peculiar talents. And—" He stood and clapped Rin firmly on the shoulder. "—I'll have you there with him to keep him honest and show him the ropes. Win-win situation." He summoned another raven, directing it to deliver the folder to the Department of Internal Affairs, then dismissed the both of them. "I'll give you a long weekend to get Nanase settled into new accomodations, but I'll expect the both of you here bright and early come Monday to start."

He then practically Expelled the both of them from the office, slamming his door shut behind them.

Rin gaped at the closed door in shock for several moments, then at Haru, then back at the door. How had they gone, in the span of sixty seconds, from Haru heading back to his grimy little pond and wilting garden...to working in the office next to Rin's? In _Sousuke's_ office? Fuck—that was too much, he couldn't—

He grabbed Haru by the bicep, jerking him along, and shoved him into an empty meeting room, ready to tear his head off. "What the _hell_ was that?" he snarled, though most of his rage was tempered by that damned emotional lump that he couldn't seem to get rid of lately. "You just—and without even _asking_ me—?!"

Haru gently pried Rin's fingers away, taking a step back. "You weren't offered the job; I was. Why would I ask your permission?"

" _Because_ —because that's Sousuke's job you're taking! That's _his_ office!"

"If I didn't take it, someone else would."

"Yeah, and I'd be just as pissed!"

"Would you?" Haru pressed with a raised brow, a light note of challenge in his voice, but his gaze was cold and hard and accusing. "Or would you reluctantly accept it, because you know your department can't stop running when it loses a member and that Yamazaki wouldn't want it to?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you really be pissed, or are you only pissed at me because you're being obtuse?" Rin mouthed the accusation _obtuse_ , but before he could fire back a response, Haru redoubled his efforts: "Do you know why I said yes?"

"I...of course not. Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Exactly. You don't know; you _think_ you do, though—and that's why you're angry." He frowned, reminding, "...We aren't mated. I am not bound to you."

"What the—I _know_ that," Rin insisted, but the slight whine in his voice betrayed his shame at having been read so easily.

"You don't, because you're still trying to convince yourself you _do_. But we aren't bound by anything, and you cannot force me or even _convince_ me to do something I don't want to do. I will _never_ do something I object to; surely you've figured that out by now." He cocked his head. "So if I do something, if I _agree_ to something I previously balked at...rest assured it was your ardent efforts which changed my way of thinking. And stop feeling so _guilty_. Not everything's about you." Rin opened his mouth to protest the accusation. "But some of it's thanks to you."

And Rin knew this; Haru had told him as such a half dozen times at least in the past few days alone. But Charm and Thrall and Influence weren't the only ways to oblige someone to do your bidding; humans (Wizard and Muggle alike) managed that well enough on their own. He grimaced. "You don't even _like_ the Ministry."

"Neither do you. But I've developed an interest in some of its employees. And I would like to learn more about magic. Plus—" He shrugged. "I need to make sure you don't abuse the power I've given you by allowing to use my scales as your new wand core."

Rin frowned. "I would never misuse them—you know that."

"...It never hurts to be careful."

Rin closed his eyes, sighing; he still thought this was a very bad decision, and that Haru hadn't really thought it over very carefully. "But—what about your pond? Your garden? What about Makoto?"

"Someone else can enjoy my pond—I'll just purchase a membership at your baths. And I'll ask Makoto to look after the garden, now that there won't be any Dangerous Beasts living there."

Or maybe Haru had been thinking about this for a while—maybe before Rin had even shown up in his life, he'd been thinking about a new life, a life outside his little one-centaur town. Knowing Haru, he likely never would have gone after it on his own, but now that he'd tasted the wide world outside, now that he'd seen all the possibilities spreading out before him...of course he wanted more. Haru had an adventurous heart, despite all appearances. He loved a challenge; he just needed to be presented with the right one.

Rin reached for the cuff of Haru's shirt—he was back in his Muggle attire, which Rin would never get used to. He thinned his lips and shook his head. "...You're gonna need some more robes. And a place to stay—"

"Can't I stay with you?"

"Huh?" Rin felt his ears go pink. "Tha—no. No, you—you need your own place." Haru seemed to wilt ever so slightly, so Rin added uneasily, "I mean, I'm sure there are a couple of vacancies on the lower floors in my building, so that might be the best place for you to start out, until you get a feel for the city..." This perked him up a bit, and Rin felt a line of tension release. Things were still a little weird between them, and Rin didn't honestly know what Haru wanted—from life, or from him. It would serve them both best to wade into this slowly rather than to dive in without knowing how deep the pool was, lest they risk breaking their necks. Then again, they'd already slept together, so how much deeper was it possible to go?

...Shit. Haru was going to stay. Haru was going to be _here_ , working alongside Rin, helping him bring Sousuke back and trying to set things aright in Rin's life. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't necessarily _good_ , but...it was a start. It was a liferaft in stormy seas that would help keep his head above water, and who better to have at your side when trying to navigate rough waters than a Siren? He didn't want to say _thank you_ , because that would just reinforce the idea that Haru was doing this for him, but he still wanted to make something clear: "Your scent...it'll really fade in a week?"

Haru straightened, face going blank as he processed the question. "Yes..." 

Rin nodded, running a hand through his hair and bunching a handful at his nape, tying it off with a strip of dragon leather. The wand shop he wanted to drop by would close at 5; they could Floo over to Ametatecho and browse a bit after Rin finished settling things with the Wandmaker. He reached into his pocket, patting the little sachet of Haru's scales. "...And what if you keep applying it?" 

He was feeling like mackerel for dinner tonight.


End file.
